THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


^^^ 


ffiftr  ffiamr  (Eurtlr.— jFrontlspfetf. 


'Well'  so  you  bave  got  home  at  last!"  p.  30. 


THE  TAME  TURTLE; 


OK, 


GEORDIE  MCGREGOR'S  TROUBLE. 


LUCY   ELLEN  GUERNSEY, 

AUTHOR  OF 

'IRISH   AMY,"  "OPPOSITE  NEIGHBOURS,"  "  COMFORT  ALLISON,"  "NELLY,' 

"  TWIN  ROSES,"  "  ETHEL'S  TRIAL,"  "  THE  FAIRCHILDS,"  "  THE 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL  EXHIBITION,"  "  PERCY'S  HOLIDAYS,"  "  THE 

RED  PLANT,"  n  ON  THS  MOUNTAIN,"  "CLARIBEL," 

"JENNY  AND  THE  INSECTS,"  "RHODA'S 

EDUCATION,"  ETC.,  BTO, 


PHILADELPHIA : 

AMERICAN  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  UNION, 
No.  1122  CHESTNUT  STKEET. 


NEW  YORK  :  Nos.  8  AND  10  BIBLE  HOUSE,  ASTOB  PLACE. 


fnUrtd  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  187S,  by  the 

AMERICAN  SUNDAY-SCHOOL    UNION, 
In  the  Office,  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


WESTCOTT  &  THOMSON,  HENRY  B.  ABBMEAD, 

Sttrtotyptrt  and  Electrotype™,  rhilada.  Prlnttr.  PUlada, 


TZT 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MM 

OFF  THE  TRACK...  7 


CHAPTER  II. 
AUNT  CLARKE 23 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  KNIFE 36 

CHAPTER  IV. 
MR.  MAYNARD 59 

CHAPTER  V. 
MDNQO 80 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  COVERED  DISH 95 

1  *  5 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PA6K 

A  TKIP  TO  MILBY 122 

CHAPTER  VIH. 
THE  EXPLANATION 155 

CHAPTER  IX. 
AND  LAST....  ,.  185 


THE  TAME  TURTLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OFF  THE  TRACK. 

EOEGE  McGREGOR  had  been 


sPending  the  afternoon  in  the 
village  of  Caneota,  whither  he 
had  gone  to  do  some  errands  for 
his  aunt,  with  whom  he  lived.  He  had 
bought  a  basketful  of  groceries  of  differ- 
ent kinds,  he  had  put  fifty  dollars  in  the 
savings  bank  for  his  aunt,  and  he  had 
bought  a  pair  of  boots  for  himself.  He 
was  now  on  his  .way  home  on  the  cars, 
intending  to  go  as  far  as  the  Springs, 
from  which  place  he  expected  to  be  able 
to  "  catch  a  ride,"  either  with  the  mail- 
carrier  or  some  one  else  who  might  be 
over  from  Boonville. 


8  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

As  George — or  Geordie,  as  he  was 
usually  called — went  through  the  cars 
looking  for  a  seat,  a  very  beautiful  and 
elegantly  dressed  young  girl  made  room 
for  him  beside  her  by  taking  up  her  bag 
and  parcels. 

"Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  George, 
like  a  polite  little  fellow,  as  he  was ;  "  but 
I  am  afraid  I  shall  crowd  you  with  my 
basket." 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Miss  Thurston. 
"You  can  set  the  basket  on  the  floor 
under  our  feet.  You  know  people  must 
help  one  another  if  they  are  to  get  on 
comfortably  together." 

"Some  people  think  they  do  enough 
if  they  help  themselves,"  observed 
Geordie.  "They  say,  if  they  take  care 
of  themselves,  they  do  all  that  any  one 
has  any  right  to  expect  of  them." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  about  it  ?" 

"  I  think  it  is  very  nice  to  be  able  to 
help  one's  self,"  said  Geordie,  with  a  lit- 
tle sigh,  "  because  then  one  can  help 


OFF   THE   TRACK.  9 

other  people  too.  If  you  depend  on 
other  folks,  you  never  have  anything  of 
your  own  to  give  away." 

"  Very  true.  It  is  always  best  to  help 
ourselves  in  that  way  as  far  as  possible. 
Still,  there  are  some  things  for  which  we 
must  always  be  dependent  on  others — ' 
kindness,  and  pleasant  words  and  looks." 

"I  think  it  is  very  nice  to  be  depend- 
ent for  such  things,"  said  Geordie.  "  I 
think — "  And  then  he  stopped,  rather 
abashed  at  finding  himself  talking  so 
freely  to  a  strange  young  lady. 

"Well,  you  think  what?"  asked  Miss 
Thurston. 

"  I  think  it  is  pleasant  to  take  things 
from  people  when  they  give  them  kindly, 
and  as  if  they  did  it  because  they  liked 
you  and  were  glad  to  make  you  happy ; 
but  when  they  seem  to  grudge  what  they 
give,  and  act  all  the  time  as  if  they 
wished  there  were  no  such  person,  then 
it  isn't  nice  at  all." 

"  Very  true,  my  boy.     But  let  me  tell 


10  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

you  one  thing.  But  first,  what  is  your 
name  ?" 

"  Geordie,  ma'am — Geordie  McGregor." 

"  Well,  Geordie,  let  me  tell  you  one 
thing,  and  that  is,  that  we  should  not  be 
too  ready  to  think  that  people  grudge 
what  they  do  for  us,  even  when  their 
manners  are  not  the  most  agreeable  in 
the  world.  Grown  people,  especially 
those  who  have  to  work  for  a  living, 
have  trials  of  temper  and  vexations 
which  children  know  nothing  about." 

"  I  know,"  answered  Geordie,  blush- 
ing;  "  but  then  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
difference  in  people." 

"  Very  true,  my  dear." 

"  My  father  used  to  work  very  hard ; 
and  I  am  sure  he  had  a  great  deal  to 
vex  him,"  continued  Geordie,  "  because 
very  often  he  did  not  get  his  salary 
when  it  was  due,  and  he  hardly  had 
comfortable  clothes  sometimes ;  and  often, 
when  he  was  most  anxious  to  do  the  peo- 
ple good,  he  couldn't  succeed  at  all, 


OFF   THE  TRACK.  11 

and  that  made  him  feel  worse  than  any- 
thing ;  and  yet  I  can't  remember  that  I 
ever  saw  him  cross  or  heard  him  say  a 
word  to  hurt  any  one's  feelings." 

"  He  must  have  been  an  excellent  man. 
What  was  his  profession  ?" 

"  He  was  a  missionary  to  the  Indians 
out  in  Minnesota.  He  and  my  mother 
both  died  there." 

"  So  you  are  an  orphan  ?  Who  takes 
care  of  you  ?" 

"  My  aunt,  Mrs.  Clarke.  I  have  only 
lived  with  her  six  months.  Before  that, 
I  lived  with  a  half-breed  family  who  be- 
longed to  father's  church." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  on  with  them  ?" 
asked  Miss  Thurston. 

"  Oh,  nicely,"  answered  Geordie.  "  Of 
course  it  was  pretty  rough.  They  don't 
learn  white  folks'  ways  very  easily ;  and 
when  they  do,  they  mix  a  good  deal  ot 
Indian  with  them.  Marie  Choquette 
never  strained  her  milk  till  I  told  her 
how  mother  used  to  do  it,  and  then  she 


12  THE  TAME   TUKTLE. 

would  take  any  old  rag  she  could  find; 
so  the  straining  didn't  do  much  good. 
But  they  were  very  good  to  me.  Michael 
Choquette  taught  me  to  shoot  and  fish 
and  make  baskets  and  mokuks." 

"  What  are  mokuks  ?"  asked  Miss 
Thurston. 

At  that  moment  the  cars  stopped  with 
a  sudden  jar  which  threw  the  passengers 
off  their  seats. 

"  What's  that?"  asked  Geordie. 

"  Off  the  track,  I  fancy,"  said  a  gen- 
tleman opposite. 

"  Yes,  we're  off  the  track — at  least  the 
engine  is,"  said  the  conductor,  when 
questioned. 

"  And  how  long  shall  we  have  to  stay 
here  ?"  asked  several  people. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  say — maybe 
an  hour,  maybe  longer.  I  have  sent  a 
man  on  to  telegraph  for  help,  and  all  we 
can  do  is  to  sit  still  and  wait  till  it  comes. 
It's  rather  vexatious,  but  there's  no  dan- 
ger." 


OFF  THE  TRACK.  13 

"That  being  the  case,  Geordie,  you 
and  I  may  as  well  improve  our  time  and 
make  ourselves  comfortable,"  said  Miss 
Thurston,  producing  her  tatting  from 
her  travelling-bag.  "  I  should  like  to 
hear  more  about  your  life  in  Minnesota 
and  with  your  Indian  friends.  But  tell 
me  first  what  you  mean  by  a  mokuk.  I 
never  heard  the  word  before." 

"  A  mokuk  is  a  sort  of  basket,  or  rather 
box,  made  of  birch  bark,  to  hold  berries 
or  sugar  or  rice — wild  "rice,  you  know. 
Some  are  quite  large  and  some  are  small 
enough  to  go  in  your  pocket.  Some- 
times the  squaws  work  them  with  porcu- 
pine quills,  and  make  them  very  pretty. 
The  mission  Indian  women  used  to  make 
very  nice  ones  and  fill  them  with  the 
best  maple  sugar,  and  then  take  them  to 
church  when  there  was  a  collection  and 
put  them  on  the  plate,  because,  you  know, 
they  hardly  ever  have  any  money. 
Aunt  Clarke  says  the  missionaries  ought 
to  be  ashamed  to  take  them,  but  I  don't 


14  THE  TAME  TUETLE. 

think  so.  It  was  a  real  pleasure  to  the 
poor  things  to  give,  if  they  hadn't  much. 
They  liked  to  feel  that  they  were  doing 
something  for  the  church,  you  see." 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  right.  So  you 
learned  to  make  these  things  ?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,  and  to  hunt  and  fish 
and  swim  and  run  on  snow-shoes.  Oh 
how  I  would  like  to  get  on  snow-shoes 
once  more !  1  wish  I  was  back  there," 
added  Geordie,  more  as  if  speaking 
to  himself  than*to  his  companion.  "  I'd 
find  some  way  to  make  a  living,  I  know." 

"  But  didn't  you  have  any  school  ?" 
asked  Miss  Thurston. 

"  No,  ma'am ;  that  was  the  worst  of 
it.  As  long  as  my  father  lived  he  al- 
ways found  time  to  teach  me,  and  I 
began  to  learn  Latin  with  him,  because 
he  said  he  hoped  I  might  some  time  be 
a  minister  and  come  to  preach  to  his 
poor  Indians  when  he  was  taken  from 
them ;  but  I  am  afraid  there  isn't  much 
chance  of  that,"  added  Geordie,  sadly. 


OFF   THE  TRACK.  15 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Miss  Thurston. 

"  Oh,  because  Aunt  Clarke  can't  afford 
to  send  me  to  college,  and  she  says  I 
can't  go  to  school  much  longer.  Aunt 
Clarke  doesn't  believe  in  missions,  either. 
She  says  there  is  no  sense  in  them,  and 
that  folks  can  find  good  enough  to  do  at 
home  in  their  own  towns  and  families, 
without  running  about  the  world  after 
the  heathen.  And  she  says  the  folks  that 
are  always  running  after  foreign  missions 
never  do  anything  for  poor  folks  at  home, 
and  that  they  neglect  their  own  families." 

"  And  do  you  think  that  is  true  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am.  My  mother  and  father 
never  neglected  me,  I  am  sure,  though 
they  did  not  have  much  to  give  me. 
And  I  am  certain  that  the  ladies  of  the 
mission  society  in  our  church  don't 
neglect  their  families.  I  don't  know  any 
children  that  have  any  better  times  than 
the  Dennisons  and  Parsons  and  Mary 
Badger."  - 

"  I  believe  you  are  quite  right,  Geordie. 


16  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

Moreover,  if  you  could  examine  the 
records  of  the  different  churches  through- 
out the  country,  you  would  find  that 
those  churches  and  societies  which  do  the 
most  for  missions  are  precisely  those  which 
accomplish  the  most  work  and  contrib- 
ute the  most  money  for  objects  at  home. 
But,  Geordie,  you  must  not  give  up  so 
easily.  Don't  you  wish  to  do  as  your 
%ther  did  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Geordie,  hang- 
ing down  his  head ;  "  but  I  am  afraid 
I  shall  never  be  able  to.  I  never  shall 
be  good  enough,  for  one  thing.  When 
I  lived  at  home,  I  used  to  think  it  was 
pretty  easy  to  be  good,  but  now — " 

"  Now  you  have  more  temptations,  I 
dare  say,"  said  Miss  Thurston;  "but, 
Geordie,  you  know  you  cannot  make 
yourself  good  anywhere.  Are  not  the 
same  heavenly  Father  and  Saviour  and 
Holy  Spirit  here  that  were  in  Minnesota  ?" 

"  I  suppose  they  are,"  answered  Geor- 
die, "  but  it  doesn't  seem  so.  Sometimes 


OFF   THE   TRACK.  17 

it  seems  as  if  he  had  forgotten  all  about 
me." 

"Are  you  sure  it  is  not  the  other 
way  ?  Haven't  you  forgotten  him  ?" 

Geordie  hung  his  head. 

"  It  is  all  so  different,"  he  said.  "  In- 
deed, I  do  try  to  be  a  good  boy,  but  I 
don't  have  any  help,  somehow.  Aunt 
Clarke  means  to  be  good  to  me,  and  she  is 
good  to  me,  but  she  is  not  like  my  father 
and  mother." 

"  Don't  you  go  to  Sunday-school  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"And  to  church?" 

"  Not  all  the  time." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because —  I  don't  know  as  I  can 
tell." 

"  Then  there  is  at  least  one  help  with- 
in your  reach  that  you  haven't  used. 
You  have  a  Bible,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  I  have  got  one  of  my 
own,  and  Aunt  Clarke  has  all  father's 
books  up  in  the  garret." 


2* 


18  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  And  besides  that,  you  have  the  Holy 
Spirit  ready  and  waiting  to  help  you — 
wanting  to  help  you.  What  more  do 
you  need  than  God's  word,  his  promises, 
his  presence,  and  his  hand  ?  I  am 
afraid  you  have  forgotten  a  little  of  your 
father's  teaching,  haven't  you  ?" 

Geordie  was  silent  a  moment.  Then 
he  said,  earnestly, 

"  If  I  could  only  feel  as  if  he  really 
cared — as  if  he  wanted  me  to  be  good 
and  to  be  a  minister,  as  father  was — I 
would  never  give  up  trying  as  long  as  I 
lived,  whether  I  had  any  one  to  help  me 
or  not." 

"  Well,  why  can't  you  feel  it,  as  long 
as  he  says  so  ?  Don't  you  think  he  tells 
the  truth  ?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  answered  Geordie, 
rather  shocked. 

"  Well,  doesn't  he  say  that  he  is  more 
willing  to  give  good  gifts  to  his  children 
than  earthly  parents  are  to  give  their 
little  ones  food?  Doesn't  he  say  that 


OFF   THE  TRACK.  19 

he  never  fails  them  that  seek  him? 
Why,  I  could  not  repeat  all  his  promises 
if  we  were  to  stay  here  all  night.  I  am 
afraid  you  haven't  read  your  Bible  as 
much  as  you  should,  Geordie." 

"  I  haven't  read  it  near  as  much  as  I 
used  to,  I  know,"  said  Geordie,  frankly. 
"Up  in  Minnesota  I  had  hardly  any 
books  I  cared  about  except  the  Bible 
and  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  a  few  others ; 
but  since  I  came  here,  I  have  had  Sun- 
day-school books  and  I  have  borrowed 
story-books  of  the  other  children,  and 
I  haven't  seemed  to  get  as  much  time 
to  read  the  Bible.  You  don't  think  it 
is  wrong  to  read  story-books,  do  you?" 
he  added,  seeing  or  fancying  a  shade  of 
disapproval  in  his  new  friend's  face. 

"  No,  no  more  than  it  is  wrong  to  eat 
cake  or  candy  or  pastry  now  and  then. 
But  if  I  should  get  so  fond  of  pastry  or 
candy  as  never  to  eat  anything  else,  I 
should  soon  be  in  a  bad  way.  The  Bible 
is  the  bread  of  life,  and  we  cannot  neglect 


20  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

it  for  anything  without  starving  our 
souls.  I  don't  wonder  you  find  it  hard 
to  be  good,  Geordie,  if  you  don't  read 
your  Bible." 

"  But  then,  even  if  I  should  be  ever 
so  good,"  said  Geordie,  after  a  short 
pause,  "  I  don't  see  how  that  will  help 
me  about  getting  an  education  and  being 
a  minister." 

"  You  must  leave  that  part  to  your 
Father  in  Heaven,  my  dear,"  said  Miss 
Thurston.  "  He  may  have  some  other 
work  that  he  wants  you  to  do.  You 
may  be  quite  sure  of  one  thing — he 
wants  you  to  serve  him  in  some  way ; 
and  if  you  are  in  earnest  in  wishing  to 
do  so,  he  will  open  the  way  for  you. 
But  I  would  not  give  up  the  idea  of 
being  a  minister  if  I  were  you.  Keep 
it  in  mind  and  learn  all  you  can  about 
all  sorts  of  things.  Try  to  do  your  best 
at  whatever  work  you  set  about,  and  in 
that  way  you  will  be  preparing  all  the 
time.  So —  Here  we  are  on  the  track 


OFF  THE  TRACK.  21 

again.  We  shall  soon  be  at  the  Springs 
now.  You  said  you  lived  in  Boonville  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Perhaps  I  may  come  to  Boonville 
some  day ;  and  if  so,  I  will  be  sure 
to  find  you  out,"  said  Miss  Thurston. 
"  Meantime,  I  am  going  to  give  you  a 
little  keepsake,"  she  added,  taking  out 
of  her  pocket  a  very  pretty  buck-handled 
knife.  "  I  found  this  knife  in  the  street 
at  Milby,  and  could  discover  no  owner 
for  it.  I  think  I  must  give  it  to  you ; 
and  if  any  owner  ever  turns  up,  I  will 
replace  it  with  another.  And  now  will 
you  make  me  a  promise  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  if  I  can." 

"  It  is  this :  promise  me  never  to  let 
a  day  pass  without  reading  a  portion  of 
the  Bible,  if  it  is  no  more  than  one  verse, 
and  asking  your  Heavenly  Father  to 
help  you  to  be  good  and  to  please  him. 
Will  you  promise  me  that  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  Geordie. 

He    wanted  very   much   to    ask   the 


22  THE  TAME  TUKTLE. 

lady's  name ;  but  while  he  was  thinking 
of  the  most  polite  way  to  do  it,  the  train 
stopped  at  the  Springs,  and  he  had  to 
hurry  off  the  car.  Miss  Thurston  bowed 
and  kissed  her  hand  as  the  train  rolled 
away.  Geordie  found  Mr.  Badger  with 
his  little  wagon,  and  was  soon  on  his  way 
to  Boonville. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  UNT  CLARKE. 

OW,  I  do  hope  Aunt  Clarke  will 
be  in  a  good  humour,"  said  Geor- 
die  as  he  got  out  of  Mr.  Badger's 
wagon  and  carefully  took  down 
his  basket  of  groceries.  "  I  have  done 
the  best  I  could,  but  that  is  no  sign  she 
will  be  suited." 

Geordie's  words  would  have  sounded 
somewhat  disrespectful  if  spoken  aloud, 
but  there  was  too  much  truth  in  them. 
It  did  depend  on  Aunt  Clarke's  mood 
whether  she  would  be  suited  or  not,  and 
her  mood  depended  on  no  known  laws. 
Jeduthun  Cooke,  Mr.  Antis's  coloured 
miller,  had  once  described  her  as  "a 
woman  who  would  risk  her  life  to  pull 
you  out  of  the  water  one  minute,  and 

23 


24  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

the  next  say  something  to  make  you 
wish  she  had  let  you  alone." 

"  She  thinks,  'cause  she  does  for  folks, 
that  that  gives  her  a  right  to  insult  'em — 
same  as  if  a  man  should  think  he's  got  a 
right  to  kick  me  when  he  likes,  'cause 
he's  been  and  gave  me  a  pair  of  boots.  I'd 
rather  go  without  the  boots." 

Such  was  Jeduthun's  opinion,  and  it 
was  Geordie's  also.  It  was  hard  for  him 
to  feel  grateful  to  his  aunt  for  food  and 
shelter,  lodging  and  washing,  when  al- 
most every  meal  was  seasoned  with  un- 
kind words,  with  complaints  of  the  hard- 
ship of  having  a  great  useless  boy  sad- 
dled on  her,  with  hints  and  taunts  about 
folks  that  were  so  fond  of  converting 
Indians  and  negroes  that  they  left  their 
own  flesh  and  blood  to  any  one  who  would 
have  the  charity  to  pick  them  up,  and  a 
sharp  command  to  hold  his  tongue  if  Geor- 
die  ventured  a  word  in  his  own  or  his  fa- 
ther's defence.  No  wonder  Geordie  looked 
back  with  longing  eyes  to  the  rough  but 


AUNT   CLARKE.  25 

hearty  kindness,  the  ungrudged  if  often 
scanty  food,  and  the  drink  seasoned  with 
nothing  worse  than  dirt  and  a  fly  now 
and  then,  which  he  had  enjoyed  with 
Michael  and  Marie  Choquette.  It  is  no 
wonder  that  he  often  wished  Aunt  Clarke 
had  never  heard  of  his  existence,  or  had 
been  content  to  leave  him  in  the  hands 
of  his  Indian  friends. 

But  Mrs.  Clarke's  management  was  do- 
ing Geordie  even  a  greater  injury  than 
making  him  unhappy  and  discontented. 
He  was  fast  growing  reckless  and  hard. 
He  was  forgetting  the  lessons  he  had 
learned  at  home,  and  learning  to  think 
that  it  made  no  difference  whether  he 
were  good  or  bad,  since  there  was  no- 
body to  care.  Aunt  Clarke  was  just  as 
likely  to  scold,  or,  what  was  worse,  to 
sneer,  when  he  had  done  his  best  as 
when  he  had  not ;  and  that  being  the 
case,  where  was  the  use  of  trying  ? 

Mrs.  Clarke  made  no  pretence  of  relig- 
ion, never  read  the  Bible,  and  rarely 

3 


26  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

went  to  church,  and  she  had  plenty  of 
sneers  for  those  who  did.  Besides,  she 
was  always  telling  Geordie  that  he  must 
not  expect  to  go  to  college.  .  If  she  kept 
him  at  school  another  year,  it  was  all 
she  could  do,  and  more  than  he  had  a 
right  to  expect ;  and  that  being  the  case, 
where  was  the  use  of  his  thinking  of 
being  a  minister  ? 

Then,  again,  Geordie  did  not  get  on 
well  at  school.  The  teacher,  Miss  Bart- 
lett,  who  had  come  in  Miss  Hilliard's 
place,  had  a  great  idea  of  her  own  dig- 
nity, and  Geordie  had  unluckily  given 
that  dignity  a  great  blow  the  very  first 
week  of  school  by  asking  two  or  three 
questions  which  the  lady  could  not  an- 
swer. Moreover,  she  was  sure  she  had 
seen  him  smile  more  than  once  at  slips 
in  his  teacher's  grammar.  Good  Eng- 
lish was  not  Miss  Bartlett's  native 
tongue.  She  usually  spoke  it  with  pain- 
ful preciseness,  as  we  sometimes  hear 
men  speak  a  foreign  language,  and  she 


AUNT   CLAKKE.  27 

not  unseldom  made  a  slip  into  her  native 
dialect  in  such  phrases  as  "hain't  got 
none,"  "had  have  went,"  and  so  on. 
Miss  Bartlett  was  fond  of  "  object-teach- 
ing ;"  and  once,  when  she  was  delivering 
a  lecture  on  the  deer,  Geordie  was  dis- 
covered with  his  head  down  on  the  desk, 
shaking  with  suppressed  laughter,  when 
the  only  words  which  could  be  got  out 
of  him  were,  "  Indians  hunting  deer  on 
horseback !  Oh  my !"  Geordie  never 
could  please  Miss  Bartlett  after  that,  do 
what  he  would. 

There  were  two  or  three  influences 
which  prevented  Geordie  from  "  going  to 
the  bad  "  entirely.  One  was  his  Sunday- 
school  teacher,  Mr.  Parsons.  Mr.  Par- 
sons was  not  a  learned  or  brilliant  man 
— he  did  not  always  use  the  best  English 
any  more  than  Miss  Bartlett — but  he 
was  always  at  his  post,  rain  or  shine, 
harvest  or  planting-time,  and  he  always 
found  time  to  study  his  lesson  with  the 
best  helps  he  could  get.  He  was  always 


28  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

in  deep,  serious  earnest,  and  he  made  Lis 
scholars  earnest  likewise.  Geordie  knew 
that  from  Mr.  Parsons  he  was  sure  of 
kindness,  and,  still  better,  of  justice,  and 
he  tried  to  please  him  accordingly. 

The  other  influence  which  kept  Geor- 
die back  from  evil  was  the  remembrance 
of  his  parents  and  their  teachings.  Mr. 
McGregor  had  been  for  years  a  mission- 
ary to  the  Indians  in  Minnesota — poorly 
paid,  not  always  paid  at  all,  but  faithful 
to  his  post  and  his  people  through  evil 
report  and  good  report,  through  hard- 
ship, discouragement,  poverty,  and  mis- 
understanding. Mrs.  McGregor  was  all 
that  such  a  man's  wife  should  be,  and 
Geordie  was  their  only  surviving  child. 
Amid  all  their  cares  they  had  found 
time  to  begin  their  boy's  education, 
and  to  give  him  a  sure  and  firm  founda- 
tion of  religious  knowledge.  Geordie 
remembered  his  father  and  mother  with 
an  intensity  of  affection  of  which  Mrs. 
Clarke  had  no  notion,  and  it  was  this 


AUNT  CLARKE.  29 

remembrance  which  held  him  back  when 
he  was  tempted  to  run  away  and  seek 
his  fortune  in  the  neighbouring  city,  or 
try  to  make  his  way  back  to  his  Indian 
friends  in  Minnesota — which  kept  him 
from  playing  truant  or  using  bad  lan- 
guage, or  falling  by  any  of  those  tempta- 
tions which  are  to  be  found  in  small 
country  villages  almost  as  surely  as  in 
cities. 

Geordie  was  not  absolutely  penniless. 
His  father  had  insured  his  life  for  twelve 
hundred  dollars,  thinking,  as  he  told  his 
wife,  that  this  sum  would  be  something 
toward  giving  the  boy  an  education. 
But  Mr.  McGregor,  like  many  other 
good  men,  neglected  his  duty  sadly  in 
one  respect — he  made  no  will  and  no 
provision  fo'r  the  guardianship  of  his 
son ;  and  when  he  and  his  wife  died 
within  a  week  of  each  other,  there  seem- 
ed nobody  to  take  charge  of  Geordie. 
Michael  Choquette,  who  was  a  pillar 
in  the  little  Indian  church,  took  Geordie 

3* 


30  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

home,  and  Mr.  Smith,  the  Indian  agent, 
learning  from  Geordie  that  his  mother 
had  a  sister-in-law  living  in  Boonville, 
wrote  to  her.  Mrs.  Clarke  had  a  great 
deal  to  say  of  the  trouble,  and  expense, 
and  injustice,  and  so  on,  but  she  went 
through  the  necessary  legal  formalities, 
and  took  charge  of  the  boy.  Geordie 
had  begun  by  thinking  it  would  be  a 
fine  thing  to  live  among  white  folks  and 
go  to  school,  but  he  soon  changed  his 
mind  and  wished  himself  back  again. 

"  Well !  So  you  have  got  home  at 
last!"  was  Mrs.  Clarke's  affectionate 
greeting  as  Geordie  entered  the  kitchen, 
"You  ought  to  have  been  here  two 
hours  ago.  I  suppose  you  were  fooling 
round  and  missed  the  train,  and  now 
you  will  expect  me  to  go  to  work  and  get 
supper  for  you.  I  might  have  known 
just  how  it  would  be  when  I  sent  you. 
There's  nc  use  in  expecting  anything  of 
a  boy." 

"  But,  aunt,  I  didn't  miss  the  train," 


AUNT  CLARKE.  31 

said  Geordie,  when  the  torrent  of  words 
had  subsided  a  little.  "  I  was  there  ten 
minutes  before  it  started.  The  train  ran 
off  the  track,  and  we  were  detained  two 
hours.  I  came  over  with  Mr.  Badger 
in  the  mail  wagon." 

"  Yes,  that's  a  likely  story  !" 

"You  can  ask  Mr.  Badger,"  said 
Geordie. 

"  I've  got  something  else  to  do  besides 
running  after  Mr.  Badger  to  ask  him. 
Well,  where's  your  basket  ?" 

Geordie  displayed  his  basket,  and  Mrs. 
Clarke,  having  scolded  enough  to  relieve 
her  mind  beforehand,  was  graciously 
pleased  to  say  that  he  had  done  as  well 
as  she  expected. 

"  What  made  you  get  white  sugar, 
when  I  told  you  to  get  yellow  ?" 

"  They  were  both  the  same  price,  and 
I  thought  you  would  like  the  white  the 
best.  I  asked  Mr.  Burdick  to  make  out 
a  bill  of  the  things,  and  here  is  the 
change,"  said  Geordie,  producing  both 


32  THE  TAME   TUETLE. 

from  his  little  wallet.  "  I  believe  it  is  all 
right." 

"  Well,  yes,  it  seems  to  be.  Now  go 
and  get  your  supper.  There's  the  tea 
on  the  stove,  and  you  can  get  yourself 
some  cold  meat  and  apple  sauce." 

. "  I  don't  care  for  any  meat,  thank  you, 
aunt." 

"  Don't  tell  me !  Just  as  if  there  ever 
was  a  boy  who  wouldn't  eat  all  he  could 
swallow!"  said  Mrs.  Clarke;  "but  of 
course  you'd  rather  have  a  piece  of  cake. 
Well,  there  it  is,  then,"  cutting  a  liberal 
slice  as  she  spoke.  "  You  are  dainty 
enough,  any  way ;"  and  having  thus  as  it 
were  strewed  ashes  upon  her  gift,  she 
returned  to  her  sewing. 

Geordie  ate  his  supper,  and  then  went 
up  stairs  and  changed  his  clothes. 

"  What  now  ?"  asked  his  aunt  as  he 
came  down. 

"  I  was  going  to  chop  some  kindling- 
wood,"  answered  Geordie. 

"  The  kindling-wood  is  chopped  long 


AUNT  CLARKE.  33 

ago ;  I  wasn't  going  to  wait  till  dark  for 
it.  If  you  want  to  do  something  so  very 
much,  just  go  up  to  the  mill  and  get  a 
bag  of  shavings." 

Geordie  took  his  bag  and  went  out, 
glad  to  be  alone  a  little  while.  He  soon 
filled  his  bag  at  the  sawing  and  planing 
mill,  and  then,  finding  a  pleasant  seat  on 
a  log,  he  sat  down  to  rest  a  while. 

"  My  work  is  all  done,  so  I  needn't 
hurry  back,"  he  said  to  himself.  "I 
wonder  what  does  make  her  act  so  ?  It 
would  have  been  real  good  in  her  to  give 
me  such  a  nice  supper  and  do  my  work 
for  me,  only  she  must  go  and  spoil  it  by 
making  such  a  speech  about  it.  What 
a  lovely  woman  that  was  who  gave  me 
the  knife,  and  how  good  she  talked ! — 
just  like  mother.  I  wonder  if  it  is  true 
what  she  said  about  God's  caring?  If 
I  thought  that — if  he  really  does  care — 
there  is  some  comfort  in  trying  to  be 
good.  I  wonder  if  there  is  anything 
about  it  in  the  Bible?  Why, of  course 
c 


34  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

there  is !  How  silly  I  am !  Those 
verses  she  said  over  were  in  the  Bible, 
I  know." 

Geordie  had  a  very  small  pocket  Testa- 
ment and  Psalms  which  had  belonged  to 
his  father,  and  which  he  always  carried 
in  his  pocket,  because  his  father  had 
done  so  before  him,  and  because  it  held 
the  card  photographs  of  both  his  parents. 
He  took  it  out  and  began  turning  over 
the  leaves,  reading  a  verse  here  and  there, 
till  it  began  to  grow  dark. 

"  I  do  believe  it  is  true,"  said  he  as  he 
put  up  his  book  and  shouldered  his  bag 
of  shavings.  "  I  mean  to  try,  any  way." 

"  Now,  George  McGregor,  what  do  you 
mean  by  bringing  such  a  load  as  that  ?" 
was  Mrs.  Clarke's  salutation.  "  I  suppose 
you  think  you  don't  make  trouble  enough 
now,  so  you  want  to  break  your  back." 

"  Oh,  it  didn't  hurt  me  any,"  answered 
Geordie,  depositing  his  bag.  "I'm  a 
great  deal  stronger  than  I  was  when  I 
came  here." 


AUNT  CLARKE.  35 

"  And  so  you  ought  to  be.  There !  go 
to  bed.  You'll  be  so  tired  to-morrow 
you  can't  stir." 

"Sha'n't  I  just  bring  in  some  wood 
first?" 

"  The  wood  is  all  in.  Go  to  bed,  do, 
and  don't  use  up  all  your  goodness  to- 
night. You  may  want  some  to-morrow." 

Geordie  had  always  said  his  prayers 
ever  since  he  could  remember,  but  of  late 
his  devotions  had  been  little  more  than  a 
form.  To-night,  however,  he  prayed  in 
earnest.  He  did  want  to  be  a  good  boy, 
to  grow  up  good,  to  be  a  minister,  like 
his  father,  and  to  go  preach  to  the 
Indians.  And  as  he  prayed  he  felt  that 
his  words  were  not  spoken  into  the  air — 
he  felt  that  somebody  was  there  to  hear. 
He  felt  comforted  and  quieted,  and  as  he 
lay  down  he  remembered  pleasantly  a 
favourite  verse  of  his  mother's :  "  He  shall 
cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and  under 
his  v  ings  shalt  thou  trust.  His  truth 
shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler." 


CHAPTEE  III. 

THE  KNIFE. 

EOKDIE  had  of  late  been  rather 
lazy  in  the  morning.  He  was 
apt  to  wake  up  feeling  tired  and 
headachy,  and  it  required  a  good 
deal  of  resolution  to  jump  up  directly. 
It  was  much  easier  and  more  comfortable 
to  turn  over  and  go  to  sleep,  thinking, 
as  he  did  so,  "Aunt  is  sure  to  scold 
about  something ;  it  may  as  well  be  that 
as  anything  else." 

But  Geordie  had  gone  to  bed  in  a 
better  frame  of  mind,  and  as  one  goes 
to  sleep  so  one  is  very  apt  to  wake  up. 
He  remembered  his  determination  to  trv 

•/ 

to  please  his  aunt  in  all  things,  and  he 
jumped  up  directly,  and  hastened  to 
dress. 

36 


THE   KNIFE.  37 

"  I  don't  hear  her  stirring,  and  it  must 
be  ever  so  early,"  he  thought.  "  I  won- 
der if  I  can't  run  down  and  make  the 
fire  before  she  gets  up?  But  then  I 
must  say  my  prayers." 

Geordie  hesitated  a  minute.  The 
temptation  was  a  strong  one,  and  he  had 
lately  almost  given  up  saying  his  prayers 
in  the  morning.  But  he  was  one  of 
those  somewhat  uncommon  children  who 
really  think,  and  as  he  paused  a  moment 
some  words  of  his  father's,  said  long  ago 
and  perhaps  hardly  noticed  at  the  time, 
came  back  to  him  almost  as  if  somebody 
had  spoken  them  in  his  ear :  "  How 
can  you  expect  that  God  will  help  and 
guard  you  through  the  day  if  you  don't 
care  enough  about  the  matter  to  ask 
him?" 

"  I  will  do  it,"  said  Geordie,  aloud : 
and  shutting  his  door  and  kneeling 
down,  he  said  his  usual  morning  prayers 
adding  a  special  petition  that  he  might 
be  kept  from  auger  and  fretfulness, 


38  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

"  And  make  me  feel  sure  that  thou  dost 
care  what  I  do,  and  will  help  me  to  do 
right." 

Geordie  was  in  time  to  light  the  fire, 
after  all.  He  had  it  nicely  burning,  the 
floor  swept,  and  the  kettle  singing  on  the 
stove  when  his  aunt  appeared. 

"  Dear  me !  how  smart  you  are  this 
morning !"  was  Mrs.  Clarke's  salutation, 
adding,  by  way  of  antidote  to  the  praise 
she  had  been  surprised  into  giving,  "  It's 
almost  too  good  to  last,  I'm  afraid." 

"  Father  used  to  say  it  was  the  men's 
business  to  make  the  fires,"  said  Geordie. 

"  You  are  not  quite  a  man  yet,  grand 
as  you  feel,"  said  his  aunt,  laughing. 
"  But  since  you  feel  so  old,  you  may 
take  the  pail  and  go  after  some  milk." 

All  day  long  Geordie  did  his  best  to 
please  Mrs.  Clarke,  and  he  succeeded  be- 
yond his  hopes. 

Mrs.  Clarke  was  in  one  of  her  better 
moods,  which  made  the  matter  easier. 
She  had  got  in  some  money  which  had 


THE   KNIFE.  39 

been  owing  to  her  for  a  long  time,  and 
which  she  had  given  up  for  lost,  and  Mr. 
Beman,  the  carpenter,  had  examined  her 
roof,  which  had  lately  taken  to  leaking, 
and  which  she  had  supposed  would  need 
to  be  entirely  new  covered,  and  had  pro- 
nounced that  an  hour's  work  would  make 
it  as  good  as  ever.  She  was  so  pleasant 
that  Geordie  ventured  to  display  the 
present  he  had  received,  and  which  he 
had  hitherto  kept  in  his  pocket. 

"Where  did  you  get  that?"  asked 
Aunt  Clarke. 

Geordie  related  the  story. 

"  I  don't  know  who  she  should  be — 
some  of  the  Hobarttown  folks,  I  dare 
say.  Rich  folks  always  like  to  patronize 
poor  folks,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke,  with  whom 
it  was  a  maxim  that  rich  people  always 
looked  down  on  poor  people. 

"  I  am  sure  she  seemed  like  a  nice 
lady,"  said  Geordie ;  "  and  she  talked  so 
pleasantly — just  like  mother." 

"  If  you  wanted  a  knife  very  badly, 


40  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

you  might  have  asked  for  it,  I  should 
think ;  but  of  course  you  would  care 
more  for  it  coming  from  a  stranger  than 
if  I  gave  it  to  you.  That's  the  way 
with  all  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke, 
who  in  her  strictures  on  her  fellow- 
creatures  was  used  to  speak  of  "  the 
world"  and  "folks"  as  of  bodies  to 
which  she  in  nowise  belonged.  "  How- 
ever, it's  a  nice  knife,  and  you  may  as 
well  get  what  you  can.  You  are  sure 
that  the  lady  did  give  it  to  you,  and 
that  you  didn't  help  yourself  to  it  any- 
where?" 

"Aunt  Clarke,  what  do  you  mean?" 
said  Geordie,  looking  up  with  flashing 
eyes.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say  I  would 
steal  it  ?" 

Mrs.  Clarke  laughed : 

"You  needn't  speak  up  so,  Geordie. 
I  was  only  in  fun." 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  any  one  ac- 
cuse you  of  stealing  in  fun,  aunt  ?" 

"  Never  you  mind  what  I  would  like. 


THE   KNIFE.  41 

That  isn't  any  concern  of  yours,"  re- 
turned Mrs.  Clarke,  sharply.  "Eat 
your  dinner  and  mind  your  business." 

Sunday  morning  came,  and  Geordie, 
not  without  some  fear  and  trembling,  put 
on  his  best  clothes. 

"What  now?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarke. 
"  What  are  you  dressed  up  so  early  for?" 

"I  thought  I  would  go  to  church," 
answered  Geordie.  "  Can  I  ?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,  if  you  want  to.  What 
has  put  that  in  your  head  ?  You  haven't 
been  in  ever  so  long." 

"  I  know  it,"  answered  Geordie ;  "  but 
I  think  I  ought  to  go.  I  know  father 
would  want  me  to  go  if  he  were  here." 

"Yes,  much  good  your  father's  church- 
going  did  him.  However,  you  can  do 
just  as  you  like.  You  had  better  sit 
with  Mr.  Maynard,  I  guess.  He  will 
keep  you  in  order." 

"  Mr.  Parsons  always  asks  me  to  sit 
with  him,"  said  Geordie,  timidly. 

"Just  as  you  like,  only  mind  you  be- 

4* 


42  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

have  yourself,"  answered  his  aunt,  and 
Geordie  went  on  his  way  rejoicing. 

The  next  morning  Geordie  made  the 
fire,  swept  off  the  walks,  and  brought 
in  wood  enough  for  his  aunt's  washing, 
and  had  still  a  little  time  to  play  with 
his  only  pet — his  tame  turtle — before 
he  went  to  school.  This  turtle  was  a 
very  small  red-eyed  reptile  with  yel- 
low" spots  on  his  head,  and  that  general 
expression  of  being  unappreciated  which 
belongs  to  all  turtles.  He  lived  usually 
in  a  small  enclosure  at  the  foot  of  the 
garden,  where  an  old  dish-pan  sunk  in 
the  ground  and  daily  filled  with  water 
afforded  him  room  for  an  occasional 
swim,  and  also  served  as  a  storehouse 
or  fish-pond  in  which  he  pursued  the 
minnows  and  insects  with  which  Geordie 
supplied  him.  Strange  as  it  may  seem, 
this  queer  little  reptile  knew  his  master 
and  loved  him.  He  would  come  forth 
from  his  pond  or  his  hole  at  Geordie's 
whistle,  walking  proudly  on  his  tiptoes, 


THE   KNIFE.  43 

and  crawling  into  his  master's  outstretched 
hand,  rub  his  queer  head  on  Geordie's 
thumb  or  hold  up  his  chin  to  be  scratched 
like  a  kitten.  He  would  remain  con- 
tentedly in  Geordie's  pocket  for  half 
a  day  at  a  time,  and  had  often  been 
carried  to  school  in  that  repository. 

Of  late,  however,  his  school  career 
had  come  to  an  end,  Miss  Bartlett  hav- 
ing passed  a  law  confiscating  all  turtles, 
grasshoppers,  and  mice  found  in  the 
schoolroom.  It  was  probably  a  very 
good  law,  but  Geordie  regretted  it,  inas- 
much as  it  compelled  him  to  leave  his 
turtle  unguarded,  and  he  was  never 
without  fears  that  Aunt  Clarke  might 
some  time  fall  upon  him,  or  Mungo,  a 
big  Maltese  cat,  Mrs.  Clarke's  only  pet, 
take  him  at  an  unguarded  moment  and 
scratch  his  eyes  out. 

The  school-bell  rung  while  Geordie 
was  arranging  his  turtle's  pond,  which 
he  had  just  filled  with  fresh  water. 
Unluckily,  he  had  taken  for  the  purpose 


44  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

an  old  tin  basin  which  Mrs.  Clarke  used 
for  scouring-sand.  He  had  fully  intended 
to  fill  it  with  clean  sand  and  put  it  back 
in  its  place,  but  the  school-bell  rung 
sooner  than  he  expected,  and,  truth  to 
tell,  Geordie  was  rather  a  careless  boy. 
He  ran  to  wash  his  hands,  and  went  to 
school,  utterly  forgetting  all  about  sand, 
basin,  and  the  probable  wrath  of  his 
aunt  at  finding  her  basin  missing. 

He  found  himself  in  very  good  time, 
after  all.  Most  of  the  scholars  were  as- 
sembled, but  Miss  Bartlett  had  not  come. 
His  first  greeting  was  from  Osric  Denni- 
son,  to  whom  he  had  showed  his  new 
knife  the  day  before : 

"I  say,  Geordie,  have  you  got  your 
new  knife  with  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Geordie,  dis- 
playing his  treasure. 

"Well,  Ira  Gardner  says  it  is  his 
knife." 

"  How  can  it  be  his,  when  a  If  dy  gave 
it  to  me  on  the  cars  ?" 


THE  KNIFE.  45 

"  Oh  yes,  very  much !"  said  Ira,  sneer- 
ingly.  "  Now,  look  here,  Geordie  McGre- 
gor, you  give  me  that  knife  and  own  up 
that  you  stole  it,  and  I  won't  say  any 
more  about  it ;  but  if  you  don't,  I'll  tell 
Miss  Bartlett,  and  then  see  what  you'll 
get." 

"  But,  Ira,  it  isn't  your  knife,"  said 
Geordie,  bewildered  by  the  accusation. 
"  It  may  be  something  like  it,  but  it  isn't 
yours." 

"  Let's  see  it,  then,"  said  Ira.  Geordie 
held  it  out  on  the  palm  of  his  hand. 
"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  is  not  my 
knife  ?  I'll  leave  it  to  any  boy  here  if 
that  isn't  my  buck-handled  knife." 

"  It  looks  like  it,  certainly,"  said  Tom 
Parsons;  "but  I  don't  believe  Geordie 
stole  it,  Ira.  Maybe  he  found  it." 

"  Yes,  he  found  it  in  my  desk,  where 
I  left  it  last  Thursday  night,"  returned 
Ira.  "Sarah  Brady  saw  Geordie  come 
back  to  the  schoolhouse  when  we  had  all 
gone  home,  and  I  know  as  well  as  I 


46  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

know  anything  that  I  left  my  knife  in 
my  desk  last  Thursday." 

"  You  might  have  done  that,  but  this 
is  not  your  knife,"  persisted  Geordie,  no- 
ways disposed  to  give  up  his  treasure. 
"I  should  like  to  know  what  I  have 
ever  done  that  you  should  accuse  me  of 
stealing  ?" 

"  Just  as  if  everybody  don't  know 
how  much  trouble  you  make  your  aunt 
all  the  time,"  answered  Ira.  "  She  told 
my  mother  you  tormented  her  life  out, 
and  were  just  like  all  ministers'  children. 
Give  me  my  knife,  I  say." 

"  I  won't,"  returned  Geordie.  "  It  is 
mine,  and  never  was  yours  in  the  world. 
You  are  just  as  mean  as  you  can  be,  Ira 
Gardner." 

"What's  that?"  said  Miss  Bartlett, 
who  had  come  up  unseen  and  heard 
Geordie's  last  words.  "  What  sort  of 
language  is  that  ?" 

"  It  is  Geordie  McGregor,  and  he  has 
got  my  knife  and  won't  give  it  to  me," 


THE   KNIFE.  47 

said  Ira,  beginning  to  cry,  as  usual.  "  He 
got  it  out  of  iny  desk,  and  now  he  says 
it  is  his,  and  he  called  me  names  be- 
sides." 

"  Why  don't  you  give  Ira  his  knife  ?" 
asked  Miss  Bartlett,  severely,  turning  to 
Geordie. 

"  It  isn't  his,  it's  mine.  A  lady  gave 
it  to  me  on  the  cars." 

"We  will  see  about  that,"  said  Miss 
Bartlett.  "  Come  into  school,  all  of  you." 

As  soon  as  school  was  opened,  Miss 
Bartlett  called  the  two  boys  up  before  her. 

Ira  stated  his  case.  He  had  left  his 
knife  in  his  desk  on  Thursday,  when 
school  was  dismissed,  and  it  was  missing 
on  Monday.  Geordie  had  been  at  the 
schoolhouse  after  all  the  others  had  gone. 
Sarah  Brady  and  two  other  girls  who  had 
stayed  to  sweep  bore  witness  that  Geordie 
had  looked  into  Ira  Gardner's  desk,  and 
had  taken  out  a  book. 

"What  book  was  it?"  asked  Miss 
Bartlett. 


48  THE   TAME   TTJKTLE. 

"  It  was  a  story-book  I  lent  Ira,  and 
he  didn't  give  it  back  to  me,  and  I 
wanted  it,"  answered  Geordie. 

"So  you  bring  story-books  to  school, 
do  you?"  said  Miss  Bartlett.  "Don't 
you  know  that  is  against  the  rule  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  but  I  didn't  bring  it  to 
read,  only  to  lend  to  Ira." 

"  Yes,  that's  a  likely  story !"  said  Miss 
Bartlett.  "  Ira,  how  do  you  know  this 
knife  is  yours  ?" 

"Because  it  looks  just  like  mine. 
There  is  just  such  a  mark  on  the  handle 
and  on  the  blade.  You  can  ask  any  of 
the  boys.  Ask  Tom  Parsons  or  Osric 
Dennison." 

Both  the  boys  testified  that  the  knife 
was  like  Ira's;  but  Osric  added  that 
there  might  be  a  great  many  knives 
alike,  and  that  he  did  not  believe  Geor- 
die would  steal. 

"  You  are  not  asked  for  your  opinion, 
but  for  your  evidence,"  said  Miss  Bart- 
lett, who  had  a  great  notion  of  her  own 


THE   KNIFE.  49 

acuteness.  "  George,  what  have  you  to 
say  for  yourself?  Tell  the  truth,"  she 
added,  sharply.  "  Don't  wait  to  hatch 
up  a  falsehood." 

George  was  a  timid  boy  where  fault  find- 
ing was  concerned,  and  he  was  easily  con- 
fused and  disconcerted.  In  fact,  a  want 
of  moral  courage  and  of  what  is  some- 
times called  "backbone"  was  the  great 
fault  of  his  character.  He  told  his  story 
in  a  somewhat  confused  and  stammering 
fashion,  and  grew  still  more  confused 
under  Miss  Bartlett's  sharp  cross-exam- 
ination, feeling,  as  he  did,  that  his  judge 
was  anything  but  an  impartial  one. 

Miss  Bartlett  prided  herself  on  her  dis- 
cernment of  character.  She  was  wont  to 
say  that  she  made  up  her  mind  about  peo- 
ple in  the  first  five  minutes,  and  rarely  if 
ever  had  occasion  to  change  it.  She  had 
never  liked  Geordie,  from  the  first,  and 
had  liked  him  still  less  after  that  un- 
lucky affair  of  the  deer.  Ira,  on  the 
contrary,  was  a  favourite,  as  he  knew 

5 


50  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

right  well,  and  this  very  knowledge  gave 
him  that  confidence  which  Geordie 
wanted.  Besides,  to  do  him  justice,  Ira 
really  believed  at  the  moment  that  the 
knife  was  his  own. 

Miss  Bartlett's  decision  was  soon  an- 
nounced : 

"  Geordie  is  a  very  wicked  boy.  He 
has  stolen  a  knife,  and  is  lying  to  hide 
it.  He  must  give  back  the  knife,  and  I 
shall  punish  him  severely  unless  he  con- 
fesses what  he  has  done  and  says  he  is 
sorry.  In  that  case  I  shall  only  keep 
him  in  at  recess  for  a  week." 

"  I  didn't  steal  the  knife,  and  I 
haven't  told  lies,"  exclaimed  Geordie, 
bursting  into  tears.  "It  is  my  own 
knife,  that  the  lady  gave  me." 

"  I  think  you  might  wait  and  find  out 
about  it,  Miss  Bartlett,"  said  Tom  Par- 
sons. "  I  don't  think  it  is  fair." 

"  Give  Ira  his  knife  this  moment," 
said  Miss  Bartlett,  not  deigning  to  no- 
tice Tom's  remark. 


THE   KNIFE.  51 

"  I  won't !"  returned  Geordie.  "  It  is 
mine." 

Miss  Bartlett  was  in  a  passion.  She 
took  the  knife  from  Geordie  by  main 
force,  and  then  gave  him  a  severe  whip- 
ping. It  was  the  first  the  child  had 
ever  felt  in  his  life,  for  his  father  and 
mother  were  not  given  to  punishment, 
and  Mrs.  Clarke,  unkind  as  she  was,  had 
never  laid  a  hand  on  him. 

"There!"  said  Miss  Bartlett  as  she 
released  him.  "  Now  go  to  your  seat  and 
stay  till  recess.  Then  I  shall  ask  you 
again  ;  and  unless  you  confess  the  truth, 
I  shall  punish  you  still  more  severely, 
and  so  on  till  you  tell  the  truth." 

Geordie  dropped  into  his  seat  and  laid 
his  head  on  his  desk,  nor  did  he  move 
till  Miss  Bartlett  called  him  up  again, 
when  he  repeated  his  denial.  But  pain 
and  shame  were  too  much  for  the  poor 
boy,  and  as  Miss  Bartlett  suspended  the 
rod,  with  the  question,  "Will  you  con- 
fess now  ?"  he  answered,  "  Yes." 


52  THE   TA.ME   TURTLE. 

"Then  you  did  take  the  knife?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"Oh,  I  thought  I  should  get  at  the 
truth.  You  took  it  out  of  Ira's  desk  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  And  then  made  up  this  story  to  hide 
it.  You  wicked  boy !  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  turn  you  out  of  the  school. 
How  dare  you  behave  so?  Don't  you 
know  what  will  become  of  you  if  you 
do  such  things  ?" 

Geordie  did  not  know  anything,  only 
that  he  was  utterly  miserable  and  would 
be  glad  to  creep  into  any  corner  to  hide, 
like  a  wounded  animal.  He  never  stirred 
from  his  seat  till  school  was  out,  when 
Miss  Bartlett  gave  him  another  "  talking 
to."  She  was  one  of  those  who  cannot 
accept  the  gospel  in  its  simplicity,  but 
must  supplement  it  with  somebody's 
"  philosophy "  or  scheme.  She  was,  in 
short,  as  unfit  for  her  place  as  any  one 
could  be.  She  assured  Geordie  that  he 
had  stained  his  soul  with  a  blot  which 


THE   KNIFE.  53 

could  never  be  washed  out,  and  that  he 
could  never  be  again  as  if  he  had  not 
sinned.  She  assured  him  that  God  hated 
sinners,  and  especially  liars,  on  account 
of  his  own  ideal  of  purity  and  justice, 
and  could  not  do  otherwise.  Then  de- 
scending to  the  severely  practical,  she 
informed  Geordie  that  she  expected  to 
see  him  come  to  the  gallows  or  the  State's 
prison,  or  perhaps  to  some  such  fate  as 
that  of  the  two  robbers  who  had  tried 
to  burn  the  mill  and  been  drowned  in 
the  pond,  and  added  that  she  should  in- 
form his  aunt  of  his  conduct  without 
delay. 

Geordie  listened  without  a  word,  and 
when  released  crept  home  without  speak- 
ing to  anybody.  He  had  no  one  to 
whom  lie  could  turn  for  comfort,  as  he 
thought  his  aunt  was  sure  to  take  sides 
against  him.  He  had  only  one  friend 
left — his  poor  turtle  ;  and  he  hastened  to 
the  bottom  of  the  garden,  where  he 
might  at  least  be  alone  with  his  favourite. 

5* 


04  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

What  a  sight  met  his  eyes !  The  neat 
paling  of  willow  twigs  was  half  demol- 
ished, the  old  pan  taken  up,  and  the  tur- 
tle was  gone. 

"  There  !  you  won't  find  your  pet,"  said 
Mr.  Brown,  who  was  at  work  in  the 
next  yard.  "  Mis'  Clarke  has  been  and 
throwed  him  away.  I  told  her  it  was  a 
kind  of  a  shame,"  continued  the  old  man, 
"  but  she's  got  her  own  notions.  Oh, 
there !  don't  cry,"  as  Geordie,  whose  last 
morsel  of  courage  now  gave  way,  threw 
himself  flat  on  the  ground  and  burst  into 
a  flood  of  tears  and  lamentations.  "  It  was 
nothing  but  a  mud  turtle,  after  all." 

But  Geordie  would  not  hear,  and  Mr. 
Brown  moved  away  to  tell  his  wife  that 
it  was  a  real  shame  of  Mrs.  Clarke  to 
use  that  orphan  boy  as  she  did. 

"  George  McGregor,  get  up  this  min- 
ute and  stop  that  noise  !"  said  Mrs.  Clarke, 
coming  to  where  Geordie  lay.  "  Ain't 
you  ashamed  to  lie  there  and  howl  like 
that  for  a  nasty  reptile  ?" 


THE   KNIFE.  55 

"  He  wasn't  a  nasty  reptile.  He  was 
my  dear  little  clean  turtle,  and  you  are 
a  wicked,  hard-hearted,  cruel  woman !" 
sobbed  Geordie,  driven  to  desperation  by 
his  misery.  "  I  wonder  how  you  would 
like  it  if  I  should  go  and  drown  Mungo? 
I  wonder  what  my  mother  would  say  if 
she  knew  how  you  treated  her  poor  little 
boy  ?  Oh,  my  turtle,  my  dear  little  tame 
turtle,  that  knew  me  and  loved  me — the 
only  comfort  I  had  in  all  the  world  !  Oh, 
my  heart  will  break — it  will,  it  will !  Oh, 
mother,  mother !" 

Now,  truth  to  tell,  Mrs.  Clarke  was 
already  sorry  she  had  thrown  away  the 
turtle.  She  had  done  so  in  a  fit  of 
anger  consequent  on  the  facts,  first,  that 
her  wash-boiler  leaked  and  her  clothes- 
line had  broken  and  let  her  washing 
down  in  the  dirt,  and  finally  that  she 
had  missed  her  sand-basin,  and  after  a 
pretty  long  search  found  it  in  the  turtle's 
pen  with  the  turtle  reposing  in  it.  As 
I  said,  she  was  already  sorry,  and  Geor- 


56  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

die's  remark  about  his  mother  touched 
her  still  more.  But  it  was  a  fixed  prin- 
ciple with  her  never  to  own  herself  in 
the  wrong. 

"  Oh,  nonsense !"  said  she.  "  Making 
such  a  fuss  about  a  turtle !  If  you  must 
have  a  pet,  I'll  get  you  a  dog  or  a  bird 
some  day.  Come,  now,  you  mustn't 
lie  there  getting  your  death  of  cold. 
Come  in  and  eat  your  supper,  and  stop 
crying,  do !" 

Geordie  was  too  worn  out  to  resist. 
He  stopped  crying  and  sat  down  to  sup- 
per, but  he  could  not  eat.  The  meal  was 
not  fairly  over  when  Miss  Bartlett  called 
with  her  story.  As  I  have  said,  Mrs. 
Clarke's  moods  were  not  to  be  calculated 
upon.  She  did  not  like  Miss  Bartlett,  be- 
cause, as  she  said,  Miss  Bartlett  "  put  on 
airs,"  which  was  certainly  true.  More- 
over, Geordie  belonged  to  her,  and  was 
therefore  not  to  be  abused  by  others, 
however  she  might  treat  him  herself. 
Bhe  cut  short  the  teacher's  story,  declar- 


THE    KNIFE.  57 

ing  that  she  did  not  believe  a  single  word 
of  it. 

"  But  George  has  confessed." 

"  Yes,  when  you  whipped  him  so  he 
didn't  know  or  care  what  he  said.  I 
never  caught  him  in  a  lie  yet." 

"But  I  understand  you  have  com- 
plained to  several  people  of  the  trouble 
he  made  you,"  said  Miss  Bartlett. 

"He  is  no  more  trouble  than  other 
boys,  and  it  is  no  business  of  yours  what 
I  said,"  returned  Mrs.  Clarke,  no  ways 
pleased  at  having  her  own  words  thrown 
back  to  her.  "  You  mind  your  concerns, 
and  I'll  mind  mine." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  Miss  Bartlett, 
rising,  with  dignity.  "  I  have  done  my 
duty  by  the  boy ;"  ancf  I  suppose  she 
thought  she  had. 

"  Come,  come,  George !  stop  crying, 
and  go  to  bed,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke,  coming 
up  to  Geordie's  little  room.  "I'll  get 
you  another  knife,  and  a  better  one 
than  that ;  and  as  for  the  turtle,  you  can 


58  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

catch  a  dozen  more  any  time.  Come,  go 
to  bed  and  to  sleep,  and  never  mind  that 
foolish  woman." 

Geordie  obeyed,  and  crept  to  bed 
without  reading  his  verses  or  saying  his 
prayers,  as  wretched  a  boy  as  could  be 
found  in  Lake  county.  His  dear  turtle 
was  gone.  All  the  boys  and  girls 
thought  him  a  liar  and  a  thief,  and  he 
had  confessed  to  being  one.  He  had  lied 
about  the  knife  because  he  was  afraid  of 
being  punished.  He  had  not  had  as 
much  courage  as  a  wild  Indian.  There 
was  no  use  in  saying  his  prayers,  because 
God  hated  him  for  telling  a  lie ;  and  if 
he  were  ever  so  sorry,  it  wouldn't  do 
any  good. 

"  It  would  be  something  if  I  only  had 
my  dear  turtle,"  sobbed  the  poor  child, 
"  but  he  is  gone  too,  and  I  shall  never 
see  him  again.  Oh  dear !  how  I  wish  I 
had  died  when  I  was  a  baby,  like  the 
others,  and  then  I  should  be  in  heaven 
with  my  father  and  mother." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MR.  MATNARD. 

'HE  next  morning,  Mrs.  Clarke 
went  into  Geordie's  room  to  call 
him,  as  usual.  As  she  stood  be- 
side the  bed  and  saw  how  pale  he 
looked,  and  what  a  sad,  grieved  expres- 
sion the  young  face  wore,  her  heart 
smote  her.  Surely  the  boy  did  not  look 
so  when  she  first  saw  him  playing  with 
Marie  Choquette's  baby.  He  was  merry 
enough  then. 

"  But  I  don't  think  he  need  mind  so 
much,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I'm  sure 
I  wish  I  had  let  the  turtle  alone,  but  I 
will  make  it  up  to  him  some  way.  As 
for  that  Bartlett  woman,  if  she  puts  her 
hand  on  him  again,  I'll  know  the  reason 
why.  I  guess  I'll  let  him  sleep.  He 

59 


60  THE  TAME   TURTLE. 

had  a  pretty  hard  time  yesterday ;"  and 
Mrs.  Clarke  actually  closed  the  door  and 
went  down  stairs,  leaving  Geordie  to 
sleep  till  nearly  breakfast-time. 

Geordie  woke  at  last  from  a  dream 
of  showing  his  turtle  to  his  mother — a 
dream  so  vivid  that  he  seemed  still  to 
feel  the  little  cold  creature  in  his  hand. 

"  But  I  shall  never  see  him  again," 
thought  poor  Geordie,  sadly,  "  nor  mother, 
nor  any  of  them — never  any  more.  Oh, 
if  I  had  only  told  the  truth,  and  stuck 
to  it,  like  the  man  in  the  book  of  mar- 
tyrs !  I  didn't  think  how  it  was  to  turn 
out  when  the  pretty  lady  gave  me  the 
knife  and  I  was  so  pleased.  But  there ! 
I  must  get  up,  and  I  suppose  aunt  will 
scold,  and  keep  on  scolding  always.  If 
one  could  see  any  end  to  it,  that  would 
be  something,"  thought  the  poor  child, 
in  the  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  as  he 
slowly  dressed  himself,  not  without  some 
trouble  and  pain,  for  he  was  sore  from 
yesterday's  beating,  ^nd  had,  besides,  a 


MR.  MAYNARD.  61 

kind  of  heavy,  aching  feeling  in  the 
back  of  his  neck. 

"  Come,  Geordie,  breakfast  is  ready," 
called  his  aunt  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
in  a  far  gentler  tone  than  usual. 

Geordie  hastened  his  dressing,  and 
went  down  without  stopping  to  say  his 
prayers. 

"  What's  the  use  ?"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  There  is  nobody  to  care  any  more.  I 
wonder  whether  there  is  any  truth  in  it, 
any  way  ?  Only  for  father  and  mother,  I 
should  almost  think  there  wasn't." 

"  Well,  you  had  a  good  sleep,"  said  his 
aunt,  not  unkindly,  as  Geordie  timidly 
opened  the  door.  "  I  went  to  call  you, 
but  I  thought  you  looked  kind  of  beat 
out,  so  I  let  you  sleep.  Don't  you  feel 
well?" 

"  Not  very,"  answered  Geordie,  almost 
frightened  at  his  aunt's  unwonted  mood. 
"  My  back  aches  and  my  neck  feels  stiff, 
and  hurts  me  very  much." 

"  I  expect  you  caught  cold  yesterday, 


62  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

lying  on  the  ground  crying  over  your 
turtle,"  Mrs.  Clarke  was  going  to  say,  but 
she  didn't.  She  actually  for  once  re- 
frained from  saying  what  was  in  her  mind 
out  of  respect  for  somebody's  feelings. 
"  You  had  better  drink  a  good  dose  of 
hot  coffee,  and  warm  yourself  up.  Here, 
I'll  get  you  some  honey.  That's  good 
for  a  cold,  folks  say." 

Geordie  felt  a  little  cheered  and  com- 
forted by  his  aunt's  unexpected  kindness. 
He  went  out  after  breakfast,  and  from 
the  mere  force  of  habit  took  his  way  to- 
ward the  turtle's  pen. 

Mrs.  Clarke  saw  him,  and  recalled  him. 

"  I  wish  you  would  run  down  to  the 
store  and  get  me  a  bottle  of  bluing. 
You  will  have  plenty  of  time  before 
school." 

Geordie  dreaded  the  idea  of  going  to 
school  to  meet  Miss  Bartlett  and  the  chil- 
dren, but  he  made  no  objections.  As  he 
went  toward  the  schoolhouse,  he  met  Ira 
Gardner.  He  was  passing  him  without 


MR.  MAYNAKD.  63 

a  word,  for  he  could  not  make  up  his 
mind  to  speak  to  him,  when  Ira  stopped 
him. 

"  Geordie,  you  may  have  that  knife  if 
you  want  it,"  said  he,  in  an  embarrassed 
tone. 

"  I  don't  want  it,"  returned  Geordie. 
"  I  never  want  to  see  it  again." 

"Oh,  come,  now,  don't  be  foolish. 
Come,  I'll  give  you  one  of  my  rabbits 
too  if  you  like.  Just  as  you  please, 
though,"  said  Ira  as  Geordie  walked 
away.  "  I'm  sure  you  can't  say  I  didn't 
try  to  make  up.  I've  done  my  share." 

Though  Ira  tried  to  speak  easily  and 
carelessly,  he  knew  very  well  that  he 
had  not  done  his  share,  and  he  felt  very 
much  embarrassed  and  very  uncomfort- 
able. The  fact  was  he  had  found  his 
knife,  or  at  least  he  had  remembered 
what  he  had  done  with  it.  Ira  had  a 
brother  who  was  clerk  in  a  store  at  the 
Springs.  When  James  was  at  home  on 
Thursday,  he  had  borrowed  Ira's  knife ; 


64  THE  TAME   TUETLE. 

and  forgetting  to  return  it,  he  had  carried 
it  over  to  the  Springs  in  his  pocket. 

Then  why  did  not  Ira  say  so  ?  For 
two  or  three  reasons.  He  had  really  be- 
lieved Geordie's  knife  to  be  his,  and  that 
he  had  left  it  in  his  desk  on  that  day. 
Then,  when  he  remembered  about  it,  he 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  expose 
himself  to  the  remarks  of  his  schoolmates 
and  the  anger  of  Miss  Bartlett,  who,  as 
Ira  knew,  would  not  easily  forgive  any- 
body for  proving  her  to  be  in  the  wrong. 

"  She  would  be  sure  to  whip  me  and 
tell  father  and  make  no  end  of  a  fuss," 
thought  Ira,  "  and  it  wouldn't  do  Geordie 
any  good,  either.  I'll  just  give  him  the 
knife,  and  say  nothing  about  it,  only  let 
him  think  I  want  to  make  up." 

It  never  occurred  to  him  that  Geor- 
die would  refuse  to  take  the  knife,  and 
his  doing  so  threw  Ira  into  considerable 
embarrassment.  He  called  Geordie  "a 
sulky  cub,"  but  he  did  not  find  any  re- 
lief in  the  words.  He  felt  very  mean 


MR.  MAYNARD.  65 

indeed  as  he  saw  Geordie's  pale  face  and 
listless  manner  in  school,  and  heard  Miss 
Bartlett  scold  him  for  sullenness  and  in- 
attention. Geordie  sat  all  recess-time 
with  his  head  resting  on  his  desk,  and  as 
soon  as  school  was  out  he  hurried  home. 

"  How's  your  head  ?"  was  Mrs.  Clarke's 
greeting. 

"  It  aches  a  good  deal,"  answered  Geor- 
die, "  and  it  feels  stupid." 

"  That  isn't  a  very  dangerous  sign,  or 
a  good  many  folks  wouldn't  live  long," 
rejoined  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  I  guess  you  had 
better  not  go  to  school  this  afternoon. 
Take  your  fish-pole,  and  go  and  have  a 
good  time  fishing." 

If  Mrs.  Clarke  had  been  very  clear- 
sighted, she  might  have  perceived  that 
Geordie  was  not  much  better  fitted  for 
an  afternoon  of  fishing  than  of  school. 
Geordie  was  not  in  the  mood  to  care  for 
any  amusement;  but  he  felt  that  his 
aunt  meant  to  be  kind,  and  he  wanted 
to  be  alone.  He  thought  her  mood  too 

6«  B 


66  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

good  to  last,  and  was  not  surprised  when 
she  called  him  back ;  but  he  was  aston- 
ished when  she  put  a  packet  of  ginger- 
bread into  his  pocket,  telling  him  that  he 
hadn't  eaten  a  bit  of  dinner,  and  maybe 
he  might  get  hungry. 

"  I  do  believe  she  is  sorry  about  the 
turtle,"  said  he  to  himself.  "She  has 
been  real  good  to  me  all  day.  I  wish  I 
knew  what  she  said  to  Miss  Bartlett,  and 
whether  she  thinks  I  stole  the  knife. 
But  of  course  she  does.  Every  one  will, 
now  that  I  have  owned  it.  Oh,  if  that 
lady  had  never  given  it  to  me !  But  then 
of  course  she  didn't  know  how  much 
trouble  it  would  make.  If  I  knew  where 
she  lived,  I  would  write  to  her ;  but  then 
I  dare  say  she  would  despise  me  for  tell- 
ing such  lies  about  it.  Oh,  if  I  hadn't 
done  that,  I  wouldn't  care  for  anything 
else.  And  I  did  so  want  to  be  good,  and 
now  there  is  no  use  in  trying  any  more." 

Geordie  walked  along  down  the  stream 
till  he  reached  a  retired  spot  where  a 


MR.  MAYNARD.  67 

high,  overgrown  bank,  receding  from  the 
water,  left  a  little  plot  of  grass  and  elder- 
bushes,  while  the  river  flowed  rather 
swiftly  over  a  break  in  its  bed,  making 
a  pretty  little  ripple.  It  was  here  that 
Geordie  had  captured  his  beloved  turtle. 
It  was  a  very  good  fishing-place,  but  he 
did  not  try  to  fish.  He  laid  aside  his 
rod  and  basket,  and  threw  himself  down 
on  the  grass,  resting  his  head  on  his 
folded  arms. 

He  seemed  to  himself  to  have  been  ly- 
ing there  quite  a  long  time,  partly  dozing 
and  dreaming,  partly  musing  in  an  aim- 
less way  over  his  troubles,  when  a  hand 
was  laid  on  him,  and  somebody  said,  in  a 
quick  but  not  unkind  tone, 

"  Hallo,  my  boy !  is  this  the  way  you 
go  fishing  ?  You  won't  catch  anything 
but  rheumatism  this  way." 

Geordie  roused  himself  up  with  a  start, 
and  saw  Mr.  Maynard  standing  beside 
him.  Mr.  Maynard  was  a  retired  min- 
ister, who  lived  on  a  small  farm  near  the 


68  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

little  village  of  Boonville.  He  was  a 
very  learned  man,  and  had  been  a  fa- 
mous preacher,  but  his  health  had  failed, 
and  some  people  said  his  mind  was  a  lit- 
tle ajar  at  times.  At  any  rate,  he  had 
given  up  preaching  and  retired  to  his 
farm,  where  he  raised  fruit  and  vegeta- 
bles and  abundance  of  flowers,  studied 
Hebrew  and  Arabic,  and  amused  himself 
with  fishing  and  catching  insects.  His 
sister,  who  lived  with  him  and  kept  his 
house,  was  a  mild,  gentle-mannered  wid- 
ow lady,  as  fond  of  books  as  her  brother, 
and  as  great  a  student  of  modern  as  he 
was  of  ancient  tongues.  She  was  just  as 
crazy  as  her  brother,  the  Boonville  people 
said;  and  Miss  Smith,  the  dressmaker, 
thought  she  had  quite  proved  her  state- 
ment when  she  declared  that  Mrs.  Oli-, 
phant  had  spent  a  hundred  dollars  which 
her  husband's  father  sent  her,  not  on  a 
nice  silk  dress  and  furs,  as  any  sensible 
woman  would,  but  on  books. 

"  Not  new  books,  either,  for  I  was  there 


MR.  MAYNARD.  69 

when  they  came.  Ever  so  many  of  them 
were  downright  shabby,  and  some  of 
them  had  the  covers  loose.  If  I  was  go- 
ing to  waste  money  like  that,  I'd  at  least 
have  some  nice  handsome  books  to  show 
for  it." 

Geordie  had  been  rather  shy  of  Mr. 
Maynard  at  first,  but  they  had  met  two 
or  three  times  when  out  fishing,  and 
Geordie  was  beginning  to  get  over  his 
fear  of  Mr.  Maynard's  somewhat  gruff 
voice  and  harsh  manner,  and  the  shaggy 
gray  eyebrows  which  met  over  his  large 
nose. 

"But  what's  the  matter?"  said  Mr. 
Maynard,  as  Geordie  lifted  his  head  and 
showed  his  tear-stained  face.  "  Has  any- 
thing happened  to  the  dear  turtle,  or 
has  Auntie  Clarke  been  scolding  ?  You 
mustn't  mind  it  so  much  as  that.  My 
dear  boy,  don't  lie  there  and  cry,"  for 
at  the  minister's  words  Geordie's  head 
went  down  again.  "  You  will  get  your 
death  of  cold.  Come,  sit  down  here  and 


70  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

tell  me  all  about  it.  That's  the  way  your 
father  has  done  before  now." 

"  Did  you  know  my  father,  sir  ?"  asked 
Geordie,  diverted  for  a  moment  from  his 
trouble. 

"  Yes ;  we  were  schoolmates  and  chums 
at  one  time,  though  I  was  a  big  boy 
when  he  was  a  little  one.  It  was  only 
the  other  day  that  I  found  out  you  were 
the  son  of  my  old  friend.  You  must 
come  up  and  make  me  a  visit.  But 
come,  Geordie,  tell  me  what  has  happened 
to  trouble  you  so  much.  Is  the  turtle 
dead?" 

"  No,  but  he  isn't  mine  any  longer," 
sa»d  Geordie  sadly.  "Aunt  Clarke  threw 
him  away ;  and  that  isn't  the  worst, 
either." 

"What  is  the  worst?"  asked  Mr. 
Mayaard.  "  Come,  tell  me  all  about  it 
from  the  begining.  Perhaps  I  can  find 
some  way  to  help  you." 

Thus  encouraged,  Geordie  related  the 
story  of  his  troubles.  Mr.  Maynard 


MR.  MAYNARD.   4  71 

listened  with  grave  attention,  drawing 
his  brows  together  till  his  eyes  seemed  in 
some  danger  of  disappearing  altogether. 

When  Geordie  finished,  the  minister 
was  silent  a  minute,  and  Geordie,  look- 
ing timidly  into  his  face,  was  surprised 
and  dismayed  to  see  its  expression  of 
wrath. 

"  I  know  it  was  very  wicked  to  tell  so 
many  lies  about  it,"  said  he,  "but  oh, 
she  did  hurt  me  so !" 

"  Miss  Bartlett  ought  to  have  been  an 
inquisitor,"  said  Mr.  Maynard,  breaking 
silence  at  last.  "  She  would  have  shone 
in  that  station  of  life." 

"  It  did  make  me  think  about  some 
things  in  the  '  Book  of  Martyrs ' — tor- 
menting people  to  make  them  confess," 
said  Geordie,  relieved  to  find  that  Mr. 
Maynard's  anger  did  not  seem  to  be 
directed  against  himself;  "but  then  the 
martyrs  kept  on  telling  the  truth.  They 
didn't  lie  to  get  away  from  being  hurt, 
as  I  did." 


72  JHE   TAME  TURTLE. 

"Some  of  them  did,"  answered  Mr. 
Maynard.  "  When  you  come  to  see  me  I 
will  show  you  the  story  of  a  young  man 
who  denied  his  religion  for  fear  of  pun- 
ishment, and  afterward  became  one  of 
the  bravest  of  martyrs." 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  for  anything 
only  the  lies  I  told,"  said  Geordie.  "  But 
I  did  so  want  to  be  good,  and  grow  up  to 
be  a  minister  and  preach  to  father's  poor 
Indians.  But  I  don't  see  how  I  can  if 
God  hates  me." 

"  Who  told  you  that  God  hated  you  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Maynard,  sharply. 

"  Miss  Bartlett  said  so.  She  said  he 
hated  all  sinners,  and  especially  liars. 
And  she  said  I  never  could  be  again  as 
if  I  hadn't  done  wrong,  and  that  noth- 
ing could  take  away  the  stain  of  the  sin 
I  had  committed,  and  that  nobody  would 
ever  believe  me  again." 

"  Miss  Bartlett  is  a — never  mind  what," 
said  Mr.  Maynard.  "Look  here,  George : 
do  you  ever  read  your  Bible  ?" 


MR.  MAYNAKD.  73 

"  Yes,  sir — sometimes." 

"  If  you  read  it  every  day,  instead  of 
only  sometimes,  my  boy,  you  would 
know  better  than  to  believe  such  stuff  as 
that.  Tell  me,  whom  did  Jesus  Christ 
come  into  the  world  to  save  ?" 

"  Sinners,"  answered  George. 

"  Do  you  think  that  looks  as  if  he 
hated  them?  See  here,  I  want  to  read 
you  a  few  verses — or  you  may  read  them 
to  me,"  said  Mr.  Maynard,  taking  his 
Testament  from  his  pocket  and  turning 
over  the  leaves ;  then,  as  if  struck  with 
a  sudden  thought,  "  But  I  suppose  you 
can't  read  Greek  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Geordie,  wonder- 
ing in  his  own  mind  what  Mr.  Maynard 
took  him  for ;  "  but  I  have  got  an  Eng- 
lish Testament  in  my  pocket;"  and  he 
handed  the  little  volume  to  Mr.  May- 
nard. 

Mr.  Maynard  found  the  place  he  was 
looking  for,  and  handed  the  book  back 
to  Geordie,  who  read  aloud  : 


74  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

"  '  For  when  we  were  without  strength, 
in  due  time  Christ  died  for  the  ungodly. 

"  '  For  scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will 
one  die ;  yet  peradventure  for  a  good 
man  some  would  even  dare  to  die. 

" '  But  God  commendeth  his  love  to- 
ward us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sin- 
ners, Christ  died  for  us." 

"  Do  you  think  that  sounds  as  if  God 
hated  sinners  ?"  asked  Mr.  Maynard. 

"  No,  sir.  It  says  he  loves  them,  and 
I  think  he  must  love  them  very  much  to 
send  his  Son  to  die  for  them." 

"  Yes,  he  sent  his  Son  to  save  them ; 
and  from  what?  Not  only  from  the 
punishment  of  sin,  but  from  sin  itself. 
Bead  this." 

Geordie  read : 

"'The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  son 
cleanseth  us  from  all  sin. 

" '  If  we  say  we  have  no  sin,  we  de- 
ceive ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in 
us. 

" '  If  we  confess  our  sins,  ht  is  faithful 


MR.  MAYNARD.  75 

and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to 
cleanse  us  from  all  unrighteousness.' 

"  Does  it  mean  that  if  we — if  I — am 
sorry  for  telling  the  lies,  and  confess 
them  to  him,  he  will  forgive  me,  right 
off,  now  ?"  asked  Geordie,  looking  up  with 
an  awe-struck,  wondering  face. 

"  Just  that,  my  son,  and  more  than  that. 
He  not  only  forgives  the  sin,  but  he 
cleanses  it  away — makes  it  as  if  it  had 
never  been,  just  as  you  might  wash  a 
stain  from  your  hands.  It  is  sin  that 
God  hates,  mj  boy,  not  sinners." 

"  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  Geor- 
die. 

"  It  is  something  like  this  :  if  you  had 
a  dear  friend  who  was  sick  with  the  small- 
pox, you  would  hate  the  disease,  wouldn't 

you?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"But  you  wouldn't  hate  your  friend 
You  would  want  to  ease  him,  and  would 
do  everything  for  him." 

"  Yes,  indeed." 


THE  TAME   TURTLE. 


"And  the  more  you  loved  him,  the 
more  you  would  hate  the  disease  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  just  so  God  hates  sin — not  the 
sinner,  but  sin.  He  loves  the  sinner,  and, 
if  he  is  only  willing,  will  cure  him  of  his 
disease  and  make  him  fit  for  the  inherit- 
ance of  the  saints  in  light.  You  have 
only  to  believe  this — to  believe  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  is 
able  and  willing  to  save  you,  to  confess 
your  sin  to  him  and  be  really  willing  to 
have  him  save  you — and  all  your  trou- 
ble is  over  on  that  score.  You  may  be 
sure  that  he  wants  to  help  you  a  great 
deal  more  even  than  you  want  to  be 
helped." 

Geordie  remained  silent  a  few  minutes. 
Then  he  said,  softly, 

"  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true.  Then 
perhaps  he  will  let  me  be  a  minister,  after 
all?" 

"  Most  surely  he  will  if  he  sees  you 
are  fit  for  it ;  and  if  not,  he  will  let  you 


MR.  MAYNARD.  77 

serve  him  in  some  other  way  that  will  be 
quite  as  good." 

"But,  Mr.  Maynard,  ought  I  to  tell 
Miss  Bartlett  again  that  I  didn't  take  the 
knife?" 

"  We  will  think  about  that,  and  con- 
sider what  is  best  to  be  done.  I  think 
Miss  Bartlett  is  very  much  to  blame ;  but 
you  don't  want  to  injure  her,  do  you, 
George  ?  You  don't  want  to  be  revenged 
on  this  poor  foolish  schoolma'am  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  don't  want  to  be  revenged 
on  anybody." 

"  Not  even  on  Aunt  Clarke  for  throw- 
ing away  the  poor  turtle  ?" 

"  No,  sir.  I  don't  think  it  was  right 
to  do  so,"  said  Geordie — "  I  can't  think 
that ;  but  I  don't  want  to  be  revenged  on 
her ;  and,  besides,  I  do  really  think  she  is 
sorry.  She  hasn't  scolded  me  a  bit  to- 
day, and  she  gave  me  some  honey  for 
breakfast,  and  some  gingerbread." 

Mr.  Maynard  could  not  forbear  smiling. 

"  I  dare  say  she  is  sorry,"  said  he.    "  It 

7» 


78  THE   TAME   TUKTLE. 

would  be  better  for  her  to  say  so ;  but  if 
she  doesn't,  you  mustn't  mind.  What's 
the  matter  ?  Does  your  head  ache  ?" 

"  It  has  ached  all  day,"  said  Geordie, 
pressing  his  hands  on  the  back  of  his 
neck.  "  It  feels  as  if  something  was 
pulling  it  over  backward." 

"That  is  an  ugly  feeling,"  said  Mr. 
Maynard,  gravely.  "  I  think  we  had 
better  be  going  homeward,  as  it  is  get- 
ting late ;  and  since  you  have  caught  no 
fish  of  your  own,  you  shall  take  these  to 
your  aunt,  with  my  regards.  You  know 
she  is  a  kind  of  cousin  of  mine." 

"  What  are  you  doing  in  school  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Maynard  as  they  walked  up 
the  Outlet,  as  the  little  river  was  called. 

Geordie  told  him. 

"  Have  you  ever  studied  Latin  ?" 

"  I  began  it  a  little  with  father  just 
before  he-  died,  but  I  am  afraid  I  have 
forgotten  all  I  knew." 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  would  like  to 
begin  it  again  with  me  ?" 


MR.    MAYXARD.  79 

i 

Geordie's  eyes  sparkled :  "  Oh  yes, 
sir,  indeed  I  should." 

"  Well,  we  must  talk  to  Aunt  Clarke, 
and  perhaps  we  can  arrange  it.  Any- 
how, you  must  come  over  and  make  me 
a  good  long  visit.  But,  my  boy,  one 
word  more,"  said  Mr.  Maynard,  laying 
his  hand  on  Geordie's  shoulder :  "  never, 
never,  for  a  moment,  believe  that  your 
heavenly  Father  is  your  enemy.  What- 
ever sin  you  may  have  committed,  carry 
it  straight  to  him,  asking  forgiveness  and 
cleansing  for  Christ's  sake,  and  begin 
again  with  new  and  good  courage.  Now, 
good-bye,  and  God  bless  you." 

Mr.  Maynard  shook  Geordie's  hand 
and  turned  away  into  the  road  which  led 
to  his  own  house  ;  but  remembering  that 
he  had  put  Geordie's  little  Testament 
into  his  pocket,  he  turned  round  to  give 
it  back.  He  was  just  in  time  to  see 
Geordie  throw  down  his  rod  and  basket 
and  plunge  into  the  water. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MUNGO. 

|  HE  boy  has  gone  crazy!"  was  Mr. 
Maynard's  first  thought.  "  He 
will  be  drowned,  as  sure  as  fate," 
was  the  next,  for  the  river  just 
there  was  deep,  and  a  little  below  was  the 
entrance  to  the  flume  which  supplied  the 
plaster-mill. 

He  hastened  back  to  the  spot,  but 
somebody  was  before  him.  Jeduthun 
Cooke,  Mr.  Autis's  coloured  miller,  who 
could  run  faster,  swim  farther,  shoot 
straighter,  and  sing  better  than  any  man 
in  Boonville,  had  seen  Geordie's  leap ; 
and  before  Mr.  Maynard  reached  the 
bank,  Jeduthun  had  jumped  into  the 
water,  and  had  hold  of  Geordie's  collar, 
Geordie  in  his  turn  holding  fast  to  the 

M 


MUNGO.  81 

object  which  had  prompted  his  leap— his 
aunt's  big  cross-eyed  and  ill-tempered 
Maltese  cat. 

Mungo  was  Mrs.  Clarke's  only  favour- 
ite ;  and  barring  his  unsociable  disposition; 
which  made  him  resent  all  petting,  he 
was  a  valuable  animal  of  his  kind.  He 
never  stole  anything — at  home ;  he  was 
an  excellent  mouser,  and  was  possessed 
of  almost  super-feline  intelligence  in  the 
matter  of  opening  doors  and  catching 
chickens. 

It  was  this  last  accomplishment  which 
had  brought  him  into  his  present  trouble. 
Mr.  Peters,  Mrs.  Clarke's  next  neighbour, 
was  a  chicken-fancier,  and  raised  many 
broods  of  chickens  which  were  very  profit- 
able to  himself  and  very  troublesome  to 
every  one  else.  But  that  was  a  circum- 
stance which  never  annoyed  Mr.  Peters, 
he  being  one  of  those  amiable  people  who 
never  care  for  the  inconvenience  of  their 
fellow-creatures  so  long  as  they  them- 
selves are  suited.  His  chickens  were 

F 


82  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

profitable  to  him,  therefore  it  was  of  no 
consequence  that  they  spoiled  old  Mr. 
Brown's  tomatoes  and  pecked  his  straw- 
berries, and  destroyed  Mrs.  Clarke's  cu- 
cumbers and  robbed  her  grapevines.  He 
did  not  believe  they  did  any  mischief, 
and  would  take  no  pains  to  shut  them 
up. 

But  Mungo  was  also  in  his  way  a  hen- 
fancier,  and  would  as  soon  dine  off  a 
pure-blooded  Spanish  chicken  as  off  any 
common  barn-door  fowl.  Usually,  he  had 
the  discretion  to  confine  his  hunts  to  his 
mistress's  premises  and  those  of  old  Mr. 
Brown,  who  made  no  objection  to  his 
visits.  This  day,  however,  his  zeal  had 
outrun  his  discretion.  He  had  followed 
a  white  Dorking  into  its  own  home, 
where  Mr.  Peters  had  captured  him  and 
thrown  him  into  the  Outlet  with  a  brick 
fastened  to  his  neck  to  ensure  his  de- 
struction. 

As  it  turned  out,  however,  the  brick 
was  his  salvation ;  for  being  tied  to  hia 


Eamr  Curtlf. 


'You're  a  nice  boy,  ain't  you?"  said  Jedulhun,  as  he  landed 
Oeordie  on  the  bank.  pp.  83-84. 


MUNGO.  83 

neck  with  a  long  string,  it  lodged  on  a 
small  rushy  inlet  not  far  from  the  shore, 
and  served  as  an  anchor  which  kept 
Mungo  from  being  carried  into  the  flume. 
The  poor  cat  could  just  reach  far  enough 
to  rest  his  fore-paws  on  the  rushes,  and 
thus  keep  his  head  above  water,  while 
he  mewed  piteously  for  help.  It  was 
this  mewing  which  attracted  Geordie's 
notice.  I  will  not  say  that  for  a  minute 
the  thought  of  his  turtle  did  not  occur 
to  his  mind  ;  but  if  so,  he  did  not  listen 
to  the  suggestion.  He  never  stopped  to 
take  off  his  clothes,  but  plunged  into  the 
water  and  rescued  poor  Mungo,  who  was 
nearly  at  the  last  of  his  nine  lives,  for 
the  water  was  cold,  and  he  had  been  in 
it  more  than  an  hour.  But  the  current 
was  strong  and  Geordie  was  weak,  and 
it  may  be  doubted  whether  either  he  or 
Mungo  would  have  reached  land  again 
but  for  Jeduthun's  timely  arrival  and 
assistance. 

"  You're  a  nice  boy,  ain't  you  ?"  was 


84  THE  TAME  TTJKTLE. 

Jeduthun's  comment  as  he  landed  Geor- 
die  and  his  prize  on  the  bank.  "  What 
did  you  do  that  for  ?" 

"  I  went  to  get  Aunt  Clarke's  cat," 
answered  Geordie,  shivering.  "  I  didn't 
think  there  was  any  danger." 

"  You  ain't  a  very  good  judge,  I  guess. 
Don't  you  think  your  aunt  could  get  an- 
other cat  easier  than  she  could  find  an- 
other boy  ?" 

"She  loves  Mungo,"  was  Geordie's 
answer. 

"  You'd  better  run  home  as  fast  as  you 
can,"  said  Jeduthun.  "  Go  right  to  bed 
and  take  something  warm,  and  another 
time  don't  drown  yourself  for  the  sake 
of  an  old  cat,  and  a  cross-eyed  cat  at 
that." 

"I'll  go  home  with  you,  Geordie," 
said  Mr.  Maynard. 

"  Do,  Mr.  Maynard,  and  then  she 
won't  scold  him,"  said  Jeduthun,  in  a 
low  tone. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  she'll  mind ;  I've 


MUNGO.  85 

got  my  old  fishing  clothes  on,"  said 
Geordie,  overhearing  the  remark. 

"  Now,  George  McGregor,  if  you  don't 
deserved  to  be  whipped !"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke  as  Geordie  made  his  appearance 
dripping  wet  and  still  holding  Mungo; 
"  and  what  have  you  been  doing  to  that 
poor  cat  ?" 

"Geordie  has  been  saving  the  poor 
cat's  life  at  the  risk  of  his  own,  cousin," 
said  Mr.  Maynard,  as  Geordie  did  not 
answer.  "He  saw  the  beast  struggling 
in  the  water  just  above  the  plaster-mill 
flume,  and — very  foolishly,  I  must  say — 
jumped  in  to  pull  him  out.  I  am  afraid 
you  wouldn't  have  seen  either  of  your 
pets  alive  again  only  for  Jeduthun  Cooke, 
for  I  was  too  far  off  to  give  any  help." 

"  Well,  y.ou  are  the  greatest  boy !  But 
there!  don't  stop  to  talk,  but  run  and 
get  off  your  wet  clothes.  Bless  the 
child !  does  he  think  I'd  rather  lose  him 
than  an  old  cat  ?" 

In  his  heart  perhaps  Geordie  was  not 


86  THE   TAME  TURTLE. 

quite  certain  on  that  matter,  but  he  was 
thankful  not  to  be  scolded,  and  went  up 
to  his  room  with  a  lighter  heart  than  he 
had  had  for  many  a  day.  After  all,  the 
world  was  not  so  dark — not  dark  at  all, 
since  it  was  true  that  his  heavenly  Fa- 
ther loved  him  and  would  forgive  and 
wash  away  his  sin.  And  might  not  that 
same  Father  make  his  innocence  of  the 
theft  clear  even  to  Miss  Bartlett  ?  might 
he  not  even  let  him  see  the  pretty  lady 
again  ?  At  any  rate,  he  could  ask. 

After  Geordie  had  gone  up  stairs,  Mrs. 
Clarke  was  silent  for  a  few  moments, 
while  she  was  wrapping  Mungo  in  flan- 
nel and  laying  him  in  a  basket  by  the 
fire.  At  last  she  said,  though  without 
looking  up, 

"  I've  heard  about  heaping  coals  of  fire 
on  folks's  heads,  and  I  reckon  that  boy 
has  done  it.  I'd  give  almost  anything  to 
get  that  turtle  back  again." 

"  What  made  you  throw  him  away,  in 
the  first  place  ?"  asked  Mr.  Maynard. 


MUNGO,  87 

"  I  was  mad  at  Geordie  for  losing  my 
basin,  and  ever  so  many  things  had  hap- 
pened to  put  me  out.  I  didn't  really 
mean  to  do  it." 

"  I  don't  very  well  see  how  you  could 
do  it  without, meaning,"  said  Mr.  May- 
nard,  who  was  an  old  friend  of  Mrs. 
Clarke's,  and  stood  less  in  awe  of  her 
tongue  than  most  of  her  acquaintances. 
"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Abby,  you  are  not 
doing  right  by  that  boy.  Oh  yes,  I  know 
what  you  are  going  to  say — that  you  give 
him  plenty  to  eat  and  drink  and  wear, 
and  so  on  ;  but  that  isn't  all  a  child  needs. 
You  might  give  your  melons  good  soil 
and  plenty  of  manure  and  water,  but  how 
would  they  thrive  if  you  never  let  them 
have  any  sunshine  ?  George  is  a  tender, 
weak-spirited  little  fellow,  and  you  are  in 
a  fair  way  to  spoil  him  utterly  by  your 
constant  faultfinding  and  unkindness." 

"  Well,  he  needn't  mind  it  so  much," 
answered  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  But  you  needn't 
say  any  more.  I  know  I  haven't  done 


THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

just  right,  but  I  don't  mean  any  harm. 
It's  only  a  way  I've  got  into.  Now,  John 
Maynard,  I'd  just  like  to  know  what  you 
are  laughing  at  ?" 

"  I  was  thinking  how  you  would  think 
that  excuse  sounded  in  the  mouth  of  old 
Mr.  Peters,"  said  Mr.  Maynard.  "As 
thus :  '  Oh  yes,  Mrs.  Clarke,  I  do  let  my 
chickens  into  your  garden,  and  I  try  to 
drown  your  cat,  and  now  and  then  I  help 
myself  to  an  armful  from  your  woodpile ; 
but  I  don't  mean  any  harm  by  it.  I  was 
angry  when  I  threw  the  cat  in  the  water, 
and  for  the  rest  I  mean  no  harm.  It  is 
only  my  way.' ' 

Mr.  Maynard  said  these  words  with 
such  an  exact  imitation  of  Mr.  Peters's 
pompous  and  oratorical  manner  that  Mrs. 
Clarke  fairly  laughed  aloud  : 

"  I  shouldn't  think  much  of  it,  that's 
a  fact — the  old  villain  !  Well,  John,  I'll 
own  up  I  haven't  done  right  by  the  boy. 
I  hated  the  bother  of  having  him  here, 
and  he  does  put  me  out  by  his  careless 


MUNGO.  89 

ways,  but  I'll  try  to  do  better.  Will  that 
suit  you  ?" 

"  Excellently  well,"  said  Mr.  Maynard. 
"  And  now  what  do  you  mean  to  do  for 
the  boy  in  the  way  of  education?  I 
doubt  Miss  Bartlett's  doing  much  for  him 
after  this  late  performance." 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  answered 
Mrs.  Clarke.  "  As  you  say,  he  won't  do 
much  with  that  Bartlett  woman.  I  sup- 
pose if  she  had  been  in  the  water,  he 
would  have  pulled  her  out,  all  the  same." 

"  I  dare  say  he  would.  He  is  a  fine 
little  fellow." 

"I'd  send  him  over  to  Caneota  if  I 
could,"  continued  Mrs.  Clarke;  "but 
really  and  truly,  John,  I  can't." 

"  And  George  is  hardly  old  enough  or 
stout  enough  to  be  turned  loose  into  such 
a  large  school,  either.  Well,  Abby,  see 
here :  let  George  come  over  and  spend  a 
few  days  with  Octavia  and  me.  Then 
I  can  find  out  how  much  he  knows,  and 
what  sort  of  a  mind  he  has  ;  and  if  I  find 

8* 


90  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

I  can  be  of  service  to  him,  I  will  take 
liis  education  in  hand  myself." 

"  I'm  sure  you  are  very  good,"  said 
Mrs.  Clarke ;  "  but  can  you  find  time  ?" 

"  Oh,  I'll  make  time  somehow.  I  like 
the  boy,  and  he  is  the  son  of  an  old 
friend.  Send  him  up  to-morrow  if  he 
is  well  enough ;  and  by  the  way,  you 
had  better  look  after  him  a  little.  I 
don't  like  the  way  he  complains  of  the 
back  of  his  head." 

"  Sonny,  are  you  in  bed  ?"  called  Mrs. 
Clarke,  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  as  she 
shut  the  door  after  Mr.  Maynard. 

A  box  on  the  ear  would  not  have 
astonished  Geordie  so  much  as  this  home- 
ly pet  name  coming  from  his  aunt. 

"No,  aunt,"  he  answered;  "I  have 
put  on  my  other  clothes  to  come  down 
and  chop  the  kindlings." 

"  Never  you  mind  the  kindlings.  Jump 
right  into  bed,  and  I'll  bring  up  a  nice 
supper.  I'm  afraid  you'll  get  your  death 
of  cold  as  it  is." 


MUNGO.  91 

Geordie  was  not  sorry  to  obey,  for  lie 
felt  chilled  and  all  his  bones  ached.  He 
had  just  got  settled  when  Mrs.  Clarke 
came  up  carrying  a  tray  on  which  was 
arranged  a  tempting  supper. 

"  There !  sit  up  and  eat  your  supper," 
said  she,  wrapping  a  warm  shawl  round 
his  shoulders.  "For  Goodness's  sake, 
child,  what  made  you  run  such  a  risk 
for  that  old  cross  cat  ?" 

"  He  mewed  so  pitifully,  and  I  thought 
how  badly  you  would  feel  if  he  was 
drowned,"  answered  Geordie.  "I  couldn't 
go  away  and  leave  him  there,  and  I  had 
to  be  quick,  for  he  was  almost  gone.  I 
can  swim,  you  know,  and  I  didn't  think 
there  was  any  danger  till  I  got  in.  How 
is  the  old  fellow  ?  Do  you  think  he  will 
live?" 

"  Oh  yes,  he  is  all  right.  Here  he 
comes  to  answer  for  himself.  Well,  I 
declare,  Geordie !  he  acts  as  if  he  knew 
you  had  saved  him,  don't  he  ?" 

"  He   knows   ever   so   much,   Mungo 


92  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

does,  if  he  isn't  very  good-natured,"  said 
Geordie,  caressing  the  old  cat,  which 
was  indeed  rubbing  his  head  on  Geordie's 
face  and  hands  with  the  most  overflowing 
affection.  "  He  never  would  let  me  touch 
him  before." 

"  Well,  there !  don't  give  him  all  your 
supper,  child.  Don't  you  feel  hungry  ?" 

"  Not  very,"  answered  Geordie ;  "  but 
the  tea  tastes  real  good." 

"  I'll  get  you  another  cup.  Warm  tea 
is  the  best  thing  for  you.  You  are  shiv- 
ering yet,  I  see." 

Mrs.  Clarke  brought  the  tea,  and  then 
bestirred  herself  to  provide  hot  bricks 
and  warm  flannels  for  Geordie,  who  was 
still  cold. 

"  Now,  can  I  do  anything  more  for 
you?"  she  asked.  Her  tone  and  man- 
ner were  so  kind  that  Geordie  was 
emboldened  to  make  a  request  which 
at  another  time  he  would  never  have 
thought  of: 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  aunt — " 


MUNGO.  93 

"I  don't.     What  is  it?" 

"  If  you  would  read  me  a  chapter  in 
the  Bible,  as  mother  used  to." 

"  To  be  sure  I  will — a  dozen  of  them 
if  you  choose.  Where  shall  I  begin  ?" 

"  About  the  lost  sheep  and  the  prodi- 
gal son,  please." 

Mrs.  Clarke's  voice  was  naturally  clear 
and  sweet,  and  she  read  with  expression. 
Geordie  listened  with  quiet  contentment 
to  the  beautiful  story. 

"  Thank  you  ever  so  much,"  said  he 
when  the  chapter  was  finished.  "  What 
a  nice,  clear  voice  you-  have  got !" 

"When  I  am  not  scoldi»g,  I  suppose 
you  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  George 
McGregor,  I  will  never  scold  you  again 
as  long  as  you  live  ;  so  there !" 

"  I  shall  have  to  be  awful  good,  then," 
said  Geordie,  smiling.  "  Aunt,  I  am 
sorry  I  said  you  were  a  wicked  woman." 

"You  shut  up  and  go  to  sleep,"  was 
the  only  reply. 

The  words  were  rough,  but  the  man- 


94  '      THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

ner  was  not,  and  presently  Geordie  was 
surprised  by  a  warm,  tender  kiss  which 
reminded  him  of  his  mother. 

"  There  !  go  to  sleep  as  fast  as  you  can, 
and  wake  up  all  right  to-morrow.  I'll 
make  it  up  to  him  somehow,"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke  as  she  descended  the  stairs.  "  I'll 
buy  him  a  nice  dog  or  a  parrot  or  some- 
thing if  I  have  to  go  without  my  new 
dress." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  COVERED  DISH. 

Ik' HE  next  morning,  about  nine 
o'clock,  a  buggy  stopped  at  Mrs. 
Clarke's  gate,  and  a  fair,  smiling, 
middle-aged  lady  in  black  de- 
scended therefrom  and  was  met  at  the 
door  by  Mrs.  Clarke. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Fairchild !  I  never  was 
so  glad  to  see  anybody  in  my  life." 

"That's  good,"  said  Mrs.  Fairchild, 
kissing  her.  "  But  what's  the  matter, 
Abby  ?"  for  it  was  very  evident  that 
something  was  the  matter.  Mrs.  Clarke's 
work  was  not  "  done  up,"  and  she  her- 
self looked  pale  and  anxious. 

"  Geordie  is  very  sick,"  was  her  reply. 
"  I  have  been  up  with  him  almost  all 
night,  and  I  have  sent  for  the  doctor,  but 
he  hasn't  come." 

05 


96  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  How  does  he  complain  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Fairchild. 

"He  aches  all  over,  and  has  such  a 
pain  in  the  back  of  his  neck  that  he  can't 
lie  down  at  all.  Do  go  up  and  see  him. 
He  is  out  of  his  head  just  now,  and  keeps 
singing  and  talking  Indian,  and  asking 
about  his  turtle,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke,  with 
a  sob  in  her  voice ;  and  then,  as  if  feel- 
ing the  need  of  relieving  her  mind  by 
scolding  somebody,  "  I  wish  that  doctor 
would  come !  I  don't  see  what  he  thinks 
he  is  good  for." 

"Maybe  he's  been  called  away,"  said 
Mrs.  Fairchild.  "  Shall  I  go  up  and  see 
Geordie?  You  needn't  be  frightened 
because  he  is  out  of  his  head.  Some 
people  always  are  so  with  the  least  bit 
of  fever." 

When  Mrs.  Fairchild  saw  Geordie, 
however,  she  looked  very  grave.  She 
was  a  practised  nurse  and  a  very  acute 
observer,  and  she  saw  at  once  that  the 
child  was  very  sick. 


THE   COVERED   DISH.  97 

"  How  did  it  come  on  ?"  she  asked. 

"  With  a  chill,"  answered  Mrs.  Clarke. 
"  He  got  very  wet  yesterday  going  into 
the  water  after  my  old  cat,  that  Peters 
threw  in.  I  sent  him  straight  to  bed, 
and  tried  to  warm  him  up,  but  he  had  a 
hard  chill  about  midnight,  and  has  been 
crazy  ever  since." 

"Why,  Geordie,  what's  the  matter?" 
said  Aunt  Fairchild,  cheerfully.  "You 
know  Aunty  Fairchild,  don't  you  ?" 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  come," 
cried  poor  Geordie.  "You  will  make 
her  give  me  my  turtle,  won't  you  ?  My 
hands  are  so  hot,  and  I  know  he  would 
do  them  good,  he  is  always  so  cool.  You 
will  make  her  get  him  for  me,  won't 
you  ?" 

"But  I  can't,  Geordie,"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke,  her  eyes  running  over  with  tears. 
"  I'd  go  to  the  end  of  the  earth  to  get 
him  if  I  could." 

"  There !  I  wouldn't  reason  with  him. 
It  isn't  ever  a  bit  of  use,"  whispered 

9  G 


98  THE  .TAME   TUKTLE. 

Aunt  Fairchild ;  and  then  turning  to 
Geordie,  she  said,  soothingly,  "I  don't 
believe  I  would  hold  the  turtle  or  have 
him  up  here  now,  Geordie.  You  wouldn't 
want  to  make  him  sick,  you  know." 

Geordie  seemed  satisfied  for  the  mo- 
ment, and  began  singing  in  Indian  fash- 
ion :  "  Hy  hya  ho !  Hy  hya  ho !" 

Mrs.  Fairchild  beckoned  Mrs.  Clarke 
out  of  the  room  : 

"  I  guess  I'd  better  stay  a  while,  Abby. 
I  can  as  well  as  not,  for  Flossy  is  at  the 
cure,  and  the  house  is  shut  up  for  a  while. 
I  was  going  over  to  Mrs.  Parsons's  for  a 
little  visit,  but  I  guess  you'll  want  help." 

"  Oh,  if  you  could  stay !"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke.  "  But  then  you'll  lose  your  va- 
cation, and  I  dare  say  you  need  rest." 

"  Never  mind ;  I  can  rest  afterward." 

"  "What  do  you  think  of  Geordie  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  exactly — you 
see  so  many  things  come  on-  with  chills ; 
but  from  the  way  he  complains,  I'm  ra- 
ther afraid  of  this  disease  they  call  the 


THE   COVERED   DISH.  99 

spotted  fever,  though  that  ain't  the  right 
name  for  it.". 

"  He'll  die,  then,  of  course,"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke,  in  a  tone  of  utter  despair.  "  Every- 
body does." 

"  Oh  no,  "not  everybody,  by  any  means ; 
but  it's  an  ugly  disease,  and  want*  to  be 
well  taken  care  of.  I  wish  the  doctor 
would  come.  Meantime,  we  mu*t  keep 
Geordie  as  quiet  as  we  can.  I'd  let  him 
have  his  turtle  if  he  wants  it.  It  can't 
do  any  great  harm,  and  it  may  do  him 
good  to  humour  him." 

"  Let  him !  I  only  wish  I  could.  But 
I  got  in  a  passion  and  threw  it  away,  and 
the  poor  little  fellow  has  almost  broken 
his  heart  about  it.  And  after  all  that, 
he  must  go  and  kill  himself  to  save  that 
old  cat.  Well,  it  will  be  a  good  change 
for  him,  anyhow,  poor  child !  but  it  will 
break  my  heart." 

"  Oh,  we  won't  give  him  up,  by  any 
means,"  said  Mrs.  Fairchild,  cheerfully  ; 
"  but,  'Vbby,  my  dear,  if  you'd  only  let  it 


100  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

be  a  lesson  to  you !  I  know  you  mean  to 
do  right — " 

"I  didn't,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Clarke. 
"  It  was  all  my  wicked  temper." 

"  Well,  in  general,  I  think  you  mean 
to  do  right,  and  to  be  kind  too,  and  you 
put  yourself  out  ever  so  much  for  folks, 
but  you  don't  consider  their  feelings  as 
you  should,  especially  the  feelings  of 
children.  And  if  we  ain't,  considerate 
to  them,  why,  we  can't  expect  them  to 
be  considerate  to  us  when  they  grow  up. 
I  tell  you,  Abby,  there's  a  great  many 
times  when  a  word  is  a  great  deal  better 
than  a  gift.  I  never  would  let  my  chil- 
dren get  in  the  way  of  teasing  and  say- 
ing hard  things,  even  in  fun.  But  don't 
be  too  much  discouraged  about  Geordie. 
He  may  come  out  all  right,  you  know. 
It  seems  a  kind  of  providence  that  I 
happened  over  just  now,  because  I  can 
stay  just  as  well  as  not,  and  you'll  need 
help." 

All  the  time  she  was  delivering  this 


THE   COVERED   DISH.  101 

little  homily,  Aunt  Fairchild  TV  as  taking 
off  her  bonnet,  putting  on  her  cap,  and 
tying  on  a  large  white  apron  over  her 
black  dress. 

Mrs.  Clarke  did  not  resent  the  advice. 
She  was  too  miserable  not  to  feel  the 
comfort  of  kindness.  Besides,  Aunt 
Fairchild  was  accounted  the  best  nurse 
in  critical  cases  in  all  the  country  round. 
She  had  formerly  lived  in  Boon vi  lie, 
where  her  husband  owned  a  fine  farm ; 
but  after  his  loss  of  property  and  death, 
she  had  moved  to  the  Springs.  Mrs. 
Clarke  was  not  really  her  niece,  but 
only  the  second  wife  of  her  nephew-in- 
law ;  but  every  one  called  Mrs.  Fairchild 
"  Aunt." 

The  doctor  came  at  last,  and  pro- 
nounced Geordie's  disease  to  be  spotted 
fever,  or  meningitis.  It  was  a  severe 
attack,  but  not  hopeless  as  yet.  How- 
ever, notwithstanding  all  that  could  be 
done,  Geordie  grew  worse  every  hour. 
He  wandered  in  mind  nearly  all  the  time; 

9* 


102  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

but  after  a  while,  to  Mrs.  Clarke's  relief, 
he  ceased  talking  about  the  turtle,  and 
seemed  to  imagine  himself  once  more 
in  Minnesota,  now  with  his  father  and 
mother,  now  among  his  Indian  friends. 
He  took  little  notice  of  Mrs.  Clarke,  but 
seemed  pleased  to  see  Mrs.  Fairchild, 
and  was  more  quiet  with  her  than  with 
any  one  else. 

The  case  excited  great  interest  in  the 
little  community,  and  there  were  many 
inquiries  for  the  child,  and  more  good 
things  sent  in  for  his  eating  than  could 
have  been  consumed  in  a  fortnight. 

The  story  of  the  whipping  had  taken 
wing,  of  course,  and  was  told  again  and 
again,  with  many  exaggerations,  as  usual. 
Miss  Bartlett  knew  that  she  was  blamed 
by  every  one,  and  felt  very  uncomfort- 
able, but  she  entrenched  herself  in  that 
impregnable  self-esteem  which  she  called 
firmness  and  decision,  and  said  she  had 
only  done  her  duty,  and  should  do  the 
same  again  under  the  same  circumstances. 


THE   COVEEED   DISH.  103 

She  had  two  warm  supporters  in  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Gardner.  They  were  people 
who  could  see  no  faults  in  their  own 
children.  Mrs.  Gardner  declared  proudly 
that  Ira  had  never  told  a  lie  in  his  life — 
an  assertion  which  made  David  Brown 
open  his  eyes  very  wide  and  caused  Tom 
Parsons  to  utter  an  involuntary  whistle. 

"You  may  whistle  if  you  choose, 
Thomas,"  said  Mrs.  Gardner,  with  some 
dignity  and  more  asperity,  "  but  I  know 
my  own  children;  and  I  know  their 
faults.  Ira  is  too  open-handed  and  too 
open-hearted.  It  would  be  well  for  him 
if  he  were  less  outspoken  and  less  gen- 
erous; but  as  for  telling  lies  or  using 
deceit,  never !" 

"  What  does  thee  think  of  that  ?"  said 
David,  when  the  boys  were  alone  to- 
gether. 

" '  Every  crow  thinks  her  own  brood 
white  as  snow,'  "  quoted  Tom.  "  I  sup- 
pose she  really  does  think  so." 

"  But  thee  don't  believe  Geordie  stole 


104  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

the  knife?"  said  David,  with  some  in- 
dignation in  his  tones. 

"  No,  that  I  don't.  I  thought  he  told 
a  curious  kind  of  story,  but  I  don't 
doubt  its  being  true.  You  know  Geor- 
die  is  a  real  gentlemanly,  pleasant  little 
chap;  and  if  he  got  set  down  by  the 
woman,  and  they  got  talking,  she  might 
give  him  a  little  present  as  likely  as  not. 
As  to  the  knives  being  alike,  that  is 
nonsense.  Of  course  there  are  hundreds 
of  knives  made  all  to  the  same  pattern." 

"  But  thee  thought  Ira  believed  the 
knife  was  his.  Now,  I  don't." 

"  I  did  at  first,  but  I  don't  now,  Dave. 
You  just  ask  him  about  it,  and  see  how 
he  will  squirm,"  said  Tom,  scornfully. 

"  Maybe  he  thought  so  at  first,  and 
then  found  out  the  truth,"  said  David. 

"Why  don't  he  tell,  then,  and  clear 
poor  Geordie,  like  a  man  ?"  asked  Tom, 
scornfully. 

"Because  he  expects  Miss  Bartlett 
will  give  it  to  him  if  he  does,"  said 


THE   COVERED    DISH.  105 

David,  shrewdly.    "  Thee  won't  catch  Ira 
Gardner   risking   his   precious   skin   for 
anybody,  for  all  he  is  so  sincere  and  open 
hearted.     Has  thee  heard  from  Geordie 
to-day  ?" 

"He  is  very  sick,"  said  Tom,  sadly. 
"Auntie  Fairchild  says  to-night  will 
most  likely  decide.  She  says  if  they 
live  over  the  fourth  day  they  most  al- 
ways get  well.  I  wonder  how  his  aunt 
feels  ?  I  have  no  doubt  she  thinks  over 
many  things  that  trouble  her." 

"I  guess  she  does,"  answered  David. 
"  Mother  says  she  never  saw  any  one  so 
cut  up.  She  said  to  mother,  '  If  you 
think  there's  any  use  in  praying,  I  wish 
you'd  pray  for  my  boy.  Folks  think, 
because  I  used  to  talk  rough  to  him,  that 
I  didn't  care  for  him,  but  I  tell  you  it 
will  just  kill  me  if  that  child  dies.'" 

"  Poor  woman  !"  said  Tom.  "  Maybe 
she  will  be  different  if  George  gets  well. 
Father  says  he  believes  Geordie  was  a 
real  little  Christian.  As  for  his  owning 


106  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

up  about  the  knife,  I  don't  think  any- 
thing of  that.  Miss  Bartlett  half  killed 
him,  and  frightened  him  besides.  Fa- 
ther prays  for  him,  I  can  tell  you ;  but 
he  says  if  Geordie  was  to  die,  he  should 
feel  as  if  it  was  all  right.  He  is  an 
orphan,  you  know,  and  such  a  tender- 
spirited  little  fellow  besides.  I'll  tell 
you  what,"  said  Tom,  with  a  kind  of 
sob  in  his  voice :  "if  he  does  die,  I  shall 
never  want  to  see  Ira  again,  nor  Miss 
Bartlett  either." 

Ira  himself  was  very  uncomfortable. 
He  knew  that  he  ought  to  tell  the  truth 
and  free  Geordie  from  suspicion,  but  he 
was  afraid — afraid  of  being  laughed  at 
by  the  boys  and  punished  by  Miss  Bart- 
lett— afraid  of  what  Mrs.  Clarke  might 
say  or  do  to  him.  Perhaps  Geordie  might 
die,  and  then  there  would  be  no  need  of 
saying  anything. 

"  And  I  didn't  tell  a  lie,  either,"  Ira 
said  to  himself.  "  I  did  really  think  the 
knife  was  mine.  It  isn't  telling  a  lie  not 


THE   COVERED   DISH.  107 

to  say  anything,  so  long  as  nobody  asks 
me." 

So  Ira  reasoned,  but  he  knew  very 
well  that  his  reasoning  would  not  "  hold 
water,"  as  the  saying  is — that  in  keeping 
silence  when  he  ought  to  speak  he  was 
deceiving  as  much  as  if  he  had  told  a 
lie  in  so  many  words.  It  was  not  pleas- 
ant to  think  of  poor  Geordie  lying  there, 
drawing  with  every  hour  nearer  to  the 
grave,  with  the  shadow  of  a  false  accu- 
sation resting  on  him. 

"  But  I  don't  see  how  I  can  do  any- 
thing about  it,"  said  Ira  to  himself. 
"  Things  have  got  to  take  their  way.  It 
will  all  come  round  somehow,  whether  I 
say  anything  or  not." 

It  did  not  occur  to  Ira  that  the  com- 
ing round  might  involve  consequences 
quite  as  disagreeable  to  himself  as  an 
open  and  frank  confession. 

"It  all  depends  on  the  next  twelve 
hours,"  said  Doctor  Rose,  in  a  low  tone, 
as  he  rose  from  Geordie's  bedside.  "If 


108  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

he  lives  till  this  time  to-morrow,  he  will 
probably  get  well." 

"  Then  you  don't  quite  give  him  up  ?" 
said  Mrs.  Fairchild. 

"  Oh  no ;  I  never  give  up  a  child  so 
long  as  the  breath  of  life  is  in  it.  But 
he  is  a  very  sick  boy,  and  it  will  not  be 
strange  if  the  change  comes  at  any  mo- 
ment. I  will  ride  over  again  as  early  as 
possible  in  the  morning." 

Mrs.  Clarke  had  not  spoken,  but  she 
got  up  as  the  doctor  left  the  room,  and 
followed  him  down  stairs. 

"Doctor,"  said  she,  laying  her  hand 
on  his  arm — "  doctor,  if  you'll  only  save 
him — "  She  could  add  no  more,  for  her 
voice  was  choked  with  sobs. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Clarke,  I  have  done 
my  best,"  said  Doctor  Rose,  kindly ;  "  but 
you  know,  after  all,  that  is  very  little. 
The  case  is  in  higher  hands  than  ours. 
The  poor  child  has  had  the  best  of  care 
and  nursing — that  is  one  comfort." 

Mrs.  Clarke  drew  a  long  breath,  and 


THE   COVERED  DISH.  109 

then  spoke  in  her  old  sharp  tone,  as  Doc- 
tor Rose  began  putting  on  his  gloves : 

"Now,  see  here,  Doctor  Rose,  you're 
not  going  home  through  the  rain  without 
eating  anything.  You  have  got  to  have 
some  tea  and  something  to  eat.  Next 
thing  you'll  be  sick,  and  then  your  folks 
will  blame  me." 

Doctor  Rose  smiled,  and  sat  down 
again.  He  was  shrewd  as  well  as  kind, 
and  he  knew  that  the  little  bustle  of  get- 
ting tea  would  divert  Mrs.  Clarke  from 
her  grief  for  the  moment,  and  make  her 
better  able  to  endure  the  long  and  sor- 
rowful night-watch  which  was  likely  to 
end  so  sadly.  So  he  sat  still  while  Mrs. 
Clarke  got  together  a  dainty  supper,  and 
then  persuaded  her  to  take  a  cup  of  tea 
with  him,  "  for  company."  The  poor 
woman  had  eaten  nothing  all  day,  and 
she  really  felt  better  and  more  cheerful 
for  her  supper.  She  was  just  clearing 
the  dishes  away  when  Jeduthun  Cooke 
came  in. 
10 


110  THE   TAME  TUETLE. 

"  I  thought  you'd  be  better  of  a  man 
in  the  house  to-night,  Mrs.  Clarke,"  said 
he,  treading  as  lightly  as  a  cat,  and  tak- 
ing out  of  her  hand  the  pot  she  was  just 
going  to  put  away.  "You  just  let  me 
do  everything  down  here,  and  then  you 
lie  down  a  little  and  let  Mis'  Fairchild 
and  me  take  care  of  the  boy.  You  know 
I'm  a  first-rate  nurse,  and  I  don't  mind 
sitting  up  no  more  than  Mungo.  Where 
is  the  old  cat  ?  I  reckoned  he  wouldn't 
hardly  get  over  his  ducking." 

"  He's  up  on  Geordie's  bed,"  answered 
Mrs.  Clarke,  with  a  rush  of  tears  which 
seemed  to  give  some  relief  to  her  hot 
and  throbbing  head.  "  He  won't  leave 
the  child,  night  or  day,  for  more  than 
five  minutes.  It  is  so  curious,  because 
he  never  would  let  Geordie  touch  him 
before." 

"  Dumb  beasts  know  a  sight  more 
than  most  folks  suppose,"  said  Jeduthun, 
sententiously.  "  Now,  you  lie  down  and 
let  me  and  Mis'  Fairchild  do  the  nurs- 


THE   COVEKED  DISH.  Ill 

ing  a  little  while.  If  you  are  not  care- 
ful, you  will  be  sick  yourself." 

Mrs.  Clarke  had  always  been  averse  to 
accepting  neighbourly  help  of  any  kind, 
but  she  made  no  resistance  to  Jeduthun's 
proposition,  earnestly  backed  up  as  it 
was  by  Mrs.  Fairchild,  and  lay  down  in 
her  own  room,  which  opened  from  Geor- 
die's.  She  would  not  consent  to  move 
farther  away.  Tt  seemed  to  her  that  she 
had  hardly  fallen  asleep  when  she  was 
awakened  by  Mrs.  Fairchild,  who  put 
her  iinger  on  her  lip  as  Mrs.  Clarke 
started  up. 

"  Geordie's  quite  sensible,  and  wants 
to  see  you,"  she  whispered.  "  He  says 
he's  got  something  to  say.  If  I  was  you, 
I'd  let  him  say  it  all  quietly  without 
interrupting  him.  That's  generally  the 
best  way,  unless  there's  some  good  rea- 
son why  they  shouldn't  talk." 

"  But  how  do  you  think  he  is  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Clarke. 

"Well,  he's  no  worse,  as  I  can   see, 


112  THE   TAME   TUKTLE. 

and  his  skin  seems  just  a  little  cooler. 
He's  quite  himself  too,  but  we  can't 
build  much  on  that.  It  may  be  just  the 
lighting  up  before  the  last,  you  know,  or 
it  may  be  a  sign  that  the  fever's  turned. 
But  keep  yourself  quiet,  whatever  hap- 
pens. It  all  depends  on  that." 

Geordie  was  lying,  or  rather  sitting, 
in  bed,  supported  by  Jeduthun.  He 
smiled  as  Mrs.  Clarke  entered,  and  feebly 
put  out  his  hand  to  take  hers,  but  he 
did  not  speak  for  a  minute  or  two.  Then 
he  said, 

"  The  doctor  thinks  I'm  going  to  die, 
don't  he?" 

Mrs.  Clarke  could  not  speak,  but 
Mrs.  Fairchild  answered,  cheerfully, 

"  Oh  no,  he  did  not  say  that.  He  said 
you  were  a  very  sick  boy,  but  he  didn't 
give  up  hope,  by  any  means.  But  may- 
be you  had  better  say  what  you  want  to 
now." 

"  I  don't  feel  afraid,"  said  Geordie, 
softly — "  not  now.  They  are  all  there — 


THE  COVERED   DISH.  113 

father  and  mother  and  baby,  and  all. 
Aunt  Clarke,  I  have  made  you  a  great 
deal  of  trouble." 

"  No,  Geordie,  you  have  made  me  very 
little  trouble  for  a  boy  of  your  age,"  said 
Mrs.  Clarke,  with  such  an  effort  at  calm- 
ness that  her  voice  did  not  sound  like 
itself.  "  I  have  made  you  more  trouble 
than  ever  you  did  me." 

"  You  didn't  mean  to,  I  know,"  said 
Geordie ;  "  only  you  didn't  think  I  would 
mind  so  much.  Aunt  Clarke,  that  money 
will  all  be  yours  now,  won't  it  ?" 

Mrs.  Clarke  remembered  how  often 
she  had  said  to  herself  that  the  property 
would  all  have  been  hers  only  for  that 
bothering  boy,  and  a  spasm  in  her  throat 
almost  choked  her  as  she  answered : 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"Then  will  you  please  do  something 
for  me  ?  It  won't  cost  so  very  much." 

"  I'll  do  anything  you  like,  Geordie, 
whatever  it  costs." 

"  Then,  please,  I  should  like  to  have 

10  *  H 


114  THE   TAME  TUETLE. 

you  send  a  present  for  me  to  Michael 
and  Marie  Choquette.  Michael  would 
like  a  nice  revolver,  I  know,  and  Marie  a 
shawl  and  a  rattle  for  the  baby.  Jedu- 
thun will  pick  out  the  revolver  for  you, 
won't  you,  Jeduthun  ?" 

"  Course  I  will,"  said  Jeduthun  ;  "  but 
I  guess  you'll  live  to  pick  it  out  your- 
self, Geordie." 

"I  should  like  Marie's  shawl  to  be  a 
red  plaid — Indians  like  red.  And  please 
give  my  love  to  them,  and  tell  them, I 
shall  never  forget  them." 

"  I  guess  you've  talked  long  enough, 
Geordie,"  interposed  Mrs.  Fairchild. 

"  I  only  want  to  say  a  little  more," 
said  Geordie.  "Aunt  Clarke,  however 
it  turns  out,  I  don't  want  you  to  feel  sorry 
because  I  went  in  after  the  cat — maybe  I 
should  have  been  sick  anyway.  And  if 
my  turtle  should  come  back — Mr.  May- 
nard  says  he  may,  perhaps — will  you 
please  to  be  good  to  him,  and  give  him 
some  little  bits  of  raw  meat  sometimes  ? 


THE   COVERED   DISH.  115 

And  please  let  Mr.  Maynard  be  at  ray 
funeral,  and  ask  him  to  say  that  I  didn't 
take  the  knife,  and  that  the  pretty  lady 
I  met  on  the  cars  did  give  it  to  me,  as  I 
said  at  first." 

"Yes,  we'll  attend  to  it,"  said  Je- 
duthun.  "  Nobody  thinks  you  took  the 
knife.  There !  I  wouldn't  say  any  more." 

With  his  usual  docility,  Geordie  obeyed ; 
and  leaning  on  Jeduthun's  breast,  he 
seemed  to  fall  asleep.  Everything  was 
as  still  as  death  for  an  hour  or  so.  Then 
Geordie  waked  with  a  sigh. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Fair- 
child. 

"  I  should  like  my  head  a  little  lower, 
please,"  said  Geordie. 

"  How  do  you  feel  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Fair- 
child  as  she  felt  Geordie's  hands,  which 
were  a  little  moist. 

"Sleepy,"  said  Geordie,  with  a  faint 
smile. 

Mrs.  Fairchild  arranged  the  pillows, 
and  Jeduthun  very  gently  and  carefully 


116  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

lowered  him  upon  them.  Geordie  turned 
partly  on  his  side  with  a  faint  little  sigh, 
put  his  hand  under  his  cheek,  and  drop- 
ped off  to  sleep  again. 

"That's  worth  more  than  a  thousand 
dollars,"  said  Jeduthun,  in  the  lowest  of 
whispers. 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  I  hope  it's  the  turn  for 
good,"  said  Mrs.  Fairchild,  in  the  same 
tone.  "If  only  the  spasms  don't  come 
on — and  I  hope  they  won't,  for  he's  get- 
ting quite  a  perspiration — I  do  really  be- 
lieve he'll  get  through,  Abby." 

"  If  he  does,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke,  "  I'll 
be  a  Christian,  if  the  thing  is  in  me." 

"  And  so  you  will  if  he  don't,  or  I  miss 
my  guess,"  said  Jeduthun ;  "  but  he  will. 
I  feel  it  in  my  bones.  Now,  I'm  going 
down  to  make  you  women  some  tea,  and 
you  must  go  down  and  drink  it ;"  and 
treading  like  a  panther,  Jeduthun  left 
the  room. 

Jeduthun  was  right.  The  next  day 
Geordie  was  decidedly  better,  and  the 


THE   COVERED   DISH.  117 

next  he  was  pronounced  out  of  danger. 
He  was  very  weak,  however,  and  had 
almost  no  appetite. 

"Now,  Geordie,  I've  brought  you  a 
nice  supper,  and  I  expect  you'll  eat  it 
every  bit." 

Mrs.  Clarke  had  never  once  relapsed 
into  "  George  McGregor."  She  placed 
a  tray  before  Geordie  as  she  spoke  on 
which  was  a  covered  dish,  and  Geor- 
die, looking  up,  wondered  what  made  his 
aunt  look  so  smiling. 

"  Now,  remember,  you  must  eat  every 
bit  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke  as  she  took 
the  cover  off  the  dish. 

Geordie  glanced  at  the  dish  without 
much  interest ;  and  then  starting  up,  he 
uttered  a  cry  of  joy  : 

"  My  turtle — my  own  dear,  darling 
turtle !  The  very  same  one !  I  know 
him  by  that  place  where  Mr.  Peters-'s 
chicken  pecked  him.  My  dear  darling 
turtle  !  Just  see  him  try  to  come  to  me  !" 

And  in  effect  the  turtle  was  making 


118  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

frantic  attempts  to  scramble  out  of  the 
dish  toward  his  master.  Geordie  put 
down  his  hand.  The  turtle  crept  into  it, 
and  rubbed  his  queer  spotted  head  on  his 
master's  thumb  with  an  expression  of 
perfect  content. 

"  I  declare,  I  believe  he  is  glad  to  see 
you,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke,  with  something 
rather  suspiciously  bright  shining  in  her 
eyes. 

"And  I'm  sure  I'm  glad  to  see  him. 
Where  did  you  find  him  ?" 

"  Sitting  in  his  pen,  looking  as  if  it 
was  just  as  he  expected  and  he  never 
thought  anything  else,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke, 
laughing.  "  He  may  have  been  there 
two  or  three  clays." 

"  Poor  little  fellow !  I  dare  say  he  is 
hungry,"  said  Geordie. 

"  That  means  you  want  some  raw  meat 
to  feed  him,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  Now, 
if  I  get  you  some,  will  you  promise  to 
eat  a  good  bit  of  steak  yourself?" 

"  Yes,  I  truly  will,  Aunt  Clarke.     But 


THE  COVERED   DISH.  119 

he  must  have  some  water.  He  won't  eat 
unless  he  sits  in  the  water,"  said  Geordie, 
quite  excited. 

With  unheard  of  patience,  Mrs.  Clarke 
supplied  the  water  and  the  meat,  and  even 
felt  herself  complimented  when  the  small 
reptile  condescended  to  pull  a  bit  of  beef 
from  her  fingers. 

."  Well,  I  never  was  more  glad  to  see 
anything,"  said  Geordie,  after  he  had  ful- 
filled his  promise  respecting  the  beef,  and 
was  lying  back  contemplating  his  turtle. 

"You  are  not  half  as  glad  as  I  am, 
sonny,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke. 

"You  don't  know  how  good  that 
sounds,"  said  Geordie,  patting  his  aunt's 
fingers.  "  That  first  time  you  said  it,  I. 
thought  it  was  almost  worth  jumping 
into  the  water  for." 

"  Geordie,"  said  his  aunt,  after  a  little 
silence,  "  suppose  we  both  turn  over  a  new 
leaf.  Shall  we?  I'll  try  to  leave  off 
scolding  and  finding  fault,  and  you  try 
to  be  less  afraid  of  me." 


120  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  I'm  not  one  bit  afraid  of  you  now," 
replied  Geordie.  "  I  know  you  meant  to 
be  good  all  the  time." 

"  No,  Geordie,  I  didn't ;  I  can't  flatter 
myself.  I  knew  I  was  cross  all  the  time, 
and  I  thought  I  had  a  right  to  be  because 
I  had  lost  money  and  had  to  work  so 
hard,  and  I  never  tried  to  be  otherwise. 
The  truth  is,  I  have  been  going  wrong 
this  long  time.  I  was  a  professor  of  re- 
ligion once,  but  I  got  careless  and  did 
things  that  I  knew  were  wrong ;  and 
then,  because  I  was  inconsistent  myself, 
I  tried  to  think  that  everybody  else  was 
so.  Then  I  married  against  my  father's 
will.  My  husband  is  dead  and  gone.  I 
don't  want  to  say  anything  about  him, 
but  he  never  was  any  good  to  himself  or 
any  one  else.  I  let  my  troubles  embitter 
me  and  drive  me  farther  and  farther  from 
God.  I  was  growing  harder  and  harder  all 
the  time,  and  I  don't  know  where  I  should 
have  stopped.  I  feel  as  if  your  coming 
had  been  the  saving  of  me.  I'm  going 


THE   COVERED   DIS1I.  121 

to  try  and  be  a  different  woman  from  this 
time  out.  I  dare  say  I  shall  be  cross  a 
good  many  times,  but  you  mustn't  mind 
if  I  am.  It's  hard  to  teach  an  old  dog 
new  tricks,  you  know." 

"Mungo  has  learned  lots  of  new  tricks," 
remarked  Geordie,  patting  the  old  cat, 
who  still  kept  close  to  him.  "He  has 
never  growled  at  me  since  I  was  sick." 

"  Well,  I  won't  growl,  either,  if  I  can 
help  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Clarke,  smiling. 
"  It's  all  right  now,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed !"  answered  Geordie ; 
"  only  about  the  knife." 

"  We'll  try  to  straighten  out  that  mat- 
ter too,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "I  don't 
think  anybody  but  Miss  Bartlett  believes 
you  took  the  knife,  and  she  isn't  of  much 
account." 

"  She  never  did  like  me,"  said  Geordie : 
"  I  wonder  what  was  the  reason  ?" 

"  Oh,  she  is  just  one  of  the  folks  that 
take  notions.  Never  you  mind  about  her. 

We  will  make  it  all  right,  somehow." 
11 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  TRIP  TO  MILBT. 

EORDIE  was  sitting  on  the  front 
step  of  his  aunt's  house  looking 
rather  disconsolate.  He  had  im- 
proved rapidly  up  to  a  certain 
point,  and  there  he  seemed  to  stand  still. 
He  had  been  delighted  with  the  prospect 
of  studying  Latin  with  Mr.  Maynard, 
and  had  taken  great  pleasure  in  hunting 
out  his  old  books  from  his  father's  library, 
which  was  stored  in  his  aunt's  garret. 
But  when  he  tried  to  study,  he  found  it 
quite  impossible.  Half  an  hour's  appli- 
cation brought  on  the  pain  in  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  made  his  eyes  see  all 
manner  of  colours,  and  Dr.  Rose  had 
absolutely  forbidden  his  trying  to  study 
at  present. 
122 


A   TEIP   TO   MILBY.  123 

"  You  must  play  out  of  doors  and  work 
in  the  garden  and  go  fishing,  or  help  Mr. 
Maynard  catch  beetles  and  moths/'  said  the 
doctor,  kindly.  "Think  what  an  honour 
it  would  be  to  discover  a  new  butterfly,  or 
enrich  the  natural  history  of  your  coun- 
try by  a  beetle  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
long!" 

Geordie  laughed,  but  he  felt  very  much 
disappointed  and  very  unhappy.  To  add 
to  his  discomfort,  one  of  those  persons 
who  seem  born  to  say  the  wrong  thing 
on  all  occasions  had  remarked  to  Aunt 
Clarke,  in  his  hearing,  that  people  often 
became  blind  after  spotted  fever. 

"  Never  heard  of  such  a  thing  in  my 
life,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke,  shortly. 

"  Oh,  but  they  do.  I  heard  of  ever 
so  many  people  in  Milby ;  and  besides, 
George  complains  just  as  my  cousin  did 
that  went  blind." 

"  George,  I  wish  you'd  take  the  little 
pail  and  run  over  to  Mrs.  Cooke's  and 
get  some  buttermilk,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke; 


124     .  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"and  you  might  take  the  basket  too. 
Maybe  you'll  find  some  mushrooms." 

When  George  had  gone,  Mrs.  Clarke 
turned  on  her  visitor : 

"  Lorenda  Hitchcock,  don't  you  know 
better  than  to  talk  in  that  way  before 
that  sick  child  ?" 

"  Why,  what  did  I  say  ?"  asked  Miss 
Hitchcock,  bewildered  by  the  suddenness 
and  fierceness  of  the  attack. 

"What  did  you  say?  You  said  the 
very  thing  of  all  others  that  you  shouldn't 
have  said — putting  the  notion  into  his 
head  that  he  is  going  to  be  blind !  I 
wouldn't  have  had  it  for  anything." 

"  But  if  it  is  to  be,  he  might  as  well  be 
prepared,"  said  Miss  Hitchcock,  attempt- 
ing a  feeble  defence.  "  Don't  you  think 
so?" 

"  No,  I  don't,"  answered  Mrs.  Clarke, 
sharply.  "  Nobody  ever  is  prepared  in 
that  way.  It's  time  enough  to  be  prepared 
when  the  trouble  comes ;  and  besides,  I 
don't  believe  it.  The  child  is  weak,  and 


A   TRIP   TO    MILBY.  .      125 

his  eyes  are  weak  in  consequence,  as  any 
one  might  know  that  knows  anything. 
Well,  there !  I  don't  mean  to  scold,"  added 
Mrs.  Clarke,  catching  herself  up ;  "  but 
I  must  say,  Lorenda,  I  do  think  you 
might  have  more  sense." 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  I'm  sorry  if  I've  done 
any  harm,"  said  poor  Miss  Hitchcock ;  and 
she  really  was.  She  took  pains  to  way- 
lay Geordie  on  his  return,  when  he  had 
been  somewhat  diverted  by  his  mushroom 
hunt,  and  tell  him  that  he  mustn't  think 
too  much  of  what  she  had  said — very 
likely  there  wasn't  anything  in  it;  and 
anyhow,  if  he  should  be  blind,  his  aunt 
was  able  to  send  him  to  an  asylum,  where 
he  could  learn  to  make  baskets  or  brooms, 
and  very  likely  earn  enough  to  support 
himself  handsomely.  Having  thus  fixed 
the  idea  indelibly  in  Geordie's  mind,  Miss 
Hitchcock  returned  to  her  sewing  with  a 
conscience  at  ease. 

"Never  you  mind  what  Lorenda  Hitch- 
cock says,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke  as  she  kissed 
n* 


126  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

Geordie  good-night.  "She  don't  know 
anything  about  it." 

But  Geordie  did  mind  very  much. 
He  was  rather  given  to  brooding  and 
borrowing  trouble  ;  and  though  he  tried 
very  hard  not  to  think  about  the  matter, 
he  was  haunted  by  the  image  of  himself 
making  baskets  or  brooms  for  a  living, 
and  perhaps  led  about  by  a  little  boy  to 
sell  them ;  and  he  never  woke  in  the 
night  without  looking  at  the  window  the 
first  thing,  to  be  sure  that  he  could  see. 
He  weeded  his  aunt's  garden,  and  made 
a  new  and  gorgeous  mansion  for  the 
turtle,  and  went  fishing,  and  hunted 
mushrooms,  and  did  everything  his  aunt 
would  allow  him  to  do  about  the  house, 
but  still  the  time  hung  heavy  on  his 
hands,  and  the  question  kept  constantly 
recurring,  "  What  if  he  should  be 
blind?" 

Besides  the  fear  of  blindness,  Geordie 
had  another  trouble,  and  that  was  about 
the  knife.  His  aunt  had  sent  to  town 


A   TRIP   TO    MILBY.  127 

and  bought  him  another,  as  good,  or  bet- 
ter, but  that  was  not  quite  enough.  Geor- 
die  knew  that  Miss  Bartlett  and  a  good 
many  of  his  schoolmates  still  believed 
him  guilty,  and  the  knowledge  distressed 
him  greatly.  On  this  very  day  he  had 
tried  to  set  matters  right  with  Miss  Bart- 
lett, but  had  only  succeeded  in  making 
them  worse.  Miss  Bartlett  had  listened 
to  his  explanations,  and  then  replied 
coldly  and  severely  that  she  was  sorry 
to  see  that  his  illness  had  done  him  no 
good,  and  that  now  the  fear  of  punish- 
ment was  removed  he  was  as  ready  as 
ever  to  tell  lies  and  to  persist  in  them, 
and  finally  forbade  him  ever  to  speak  to 
her  upon  the  subject  again. 

Geordie  did  not  tell  his  aunt  the  result 
of  this  interview,  for  he  knew  how  angry 
she  would  be.  She  was  not  at  home  just 
now,  having  gone  to  see  a  sick  neighbour, 
and  Geordie  was  sitting  on  the  steps  with 
old  Mungo,  feeling  very  unhappy  indeed, 
and  almost  wishing  that  his  troubles  had 


128  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

ended  with  his  sickness.  He  was  look- 
ing down  at  Mungo,  feeling  that  the 
tears  were  very  close  to  his  eyes,  when 
the  gate  was  opened,  and  Jeduthun  Cooke 
came  in. 

"  Aunt  Clarke  at  home  ?"  asked  Jedu- 
thun. 

"  No ;  she  went  to  carry  something  to 
Aunt  Betsy  Robbins,  and  to  sit  with  her 
a  little  while.  Aunt  Betsy  is  sick  again." 

"Yes,  the  old  woman  has  lots  of 
trouble,  but  she  keeps  up  wonderfully, 
considering  how  old  she  is,"  said  Jedu- 
thun. "  She's  very  good  company  when 
she's  able  to  talk,  she  knows  so  many 
stories  about  old  times.  But  seems  to 
ine  you  look  kind  of  out  of  sorts,  Geor- 
die ;  anything  new  happened  ?  I  thought 
you  and  Aunt  Clarke  got  along  first  rate 
nowadays  ?" 

"Oh,  we  do,"  answered  Geordie, 
brightening  up.  "  She  is  just  as  good 
as  she  can  be;  only  she  won't  let  me 
help  her  as  much  as  I  want  to." 


A   TRIP   TO   MILBY.  129 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  then  ?  Coine,  tell 
ine  all  about  it,"  said  Jeduthun,  sitting 
down  on  the  step  beside  Geordie.  "  Some 
things  that  seem  pretty  big  when  we  keep 
thinking  them  over  and  over  look  dif- 
ferent when  we  talk  about  them.  I've 
got  a  holiday  this  afternoon,  and  I  feel 
just  like  sitting  here  and  talking.  I 
see  you  a-speaking  with  Miss  Bartlett  a 
little  while  ago." 

"Yes,"  said  Geordie;  "I  was  trying 
to  tell  her  about  the  knife,  but  she  won't 
hear  me.  She  says  I  am  sticking  to  a 
lie,  and  told  me  never  to  mention  the 
subject  again." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't,"  said  Jeduthun. 
"  There  ain't  no  use  in  it.  She's  such, 
a  woman  that  if  she  had  said  she  was 
going  to  die  on  a  certain  day,  she'd  jump 
into  the  mill-pond  just  to  prove  she 
wasn't  mistaken.  I  wouldn't  worry 
about  that  matter.  It  will  all  come  out 
some  time,  you'll  see.  Is  there  anything 
else?" 

i 


130  THE   TAME   TITKTLE. 

"  Only  my  eyes,"  said  Geordie,  mourn- 
fully. "  They  get  worse  and  worse  every 
day." 

"  Are  you  sure  they  do  get  worse,  or  is 
it  only  that  you  have  taken  to  noticing 
them  more?"  asked  Jeduthun.  "Aunt 
Clarke  told  me  Miss  Hitchcock  said  some- 
thing about  it.  Hasn't  that  set  you  to 
thinking  of  your  eyes  a  good  deal  ?" 

Geordie  confessed  that  it  had. 

"  Well,  that's  only  natural.  However, 
i  wouldn't  let  that  trouble  me,  neither. 
Spots  in  folks'  eyes  come  from  a  great 
many  different  causes,  and  ain't  always  a 
sign  of  blindness,  by  any  means.  Why, 
when  I  was  in  the  army,  and  had  been 
on  short  rations  for  two  or  three  days, 
my  eyes  would  see  all  sorts  of  colours.  I 
wouldn't  be  afraid  to  bet  that  you'd  beat 
me  now  shooting  at  a  mark." 

"  I  used  to  be  a  good  shot,"  said 
Geordie,  brightening  up  a  little ;  "  but  I 
haven't  had  a  gun  in  my  hand  for  so  long 
that  I  guess  I've  forgot  all  I  ever  knew." 


A   TEIP   TO   MILBY. 

"I  guess  you  haven't.  S'pose  you  come 
out  and  try,"  said  Jeduthun.  "Aunt 
Clarke  won't  want  you,  will  she  ?" 

"  Oh  no.  She  said  I  might  do  what  I 
liked." 

"  Good !  Come,  let's  go  down  stream 
a-ways,  and  have  a  good  time  shooting. 
I've  got  a  nice  little  rifle — just  the  thing 
for  a  boy." 

Geordie  agreed,  and  had  a  fine  time 
shooting  at  a  mark,  and  discovering  that 
he  had  not  forgotten  all  his  old  skill. 

"  I  guess  you  ain't  quite  blind  yet,  see- 
ing you've  hit  three  times  out  of  four," 
said  Jeduthun,  who  had  not  been  with- 
out a  motive  in  proposing  this  particular 
amusement.  "  Try  a  longer  range  now." 

The  longer  range  was  equally  success- 
ful, and  Geordie  owned  that  his  eyes  were 
pretty  good  yet. 

"  Well,  there !  I  guess  we  had  better  be 
going  home,"  said  Jeduthun,  after  a 
while.  "You  carry  the  guns  down  to 
my  house,  will  you  ?  I've  got  an  errand 


132  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

to  do;  and  if  you  like,  I'll  ask  Mrs. 
Clarke  to  let  you  stop  to  supper,  and 
afterward  we'll  clean  up  the  firearms." 

Jeduthun's  errand  was  to  Mrs.  Clarke 
herself,  and  he  had  sent  Geordie  home 
with  the  guns  to  get  him  out  of  the  way 
while  he  unfolded  his  proposition  ;  for  as 
he  told  Kissy  his  wife,  "  there  never  was 
no  knowing  how  she'd  take  things,  and 
it  wasn't  best  to  raise  the  boy's  expecta- 
tions." Jeduthun  was  going  on  a  short 
journey  next  day  to  take  home  a  light 
carriage  and  a  pair  of  ponies  belonging 
to  a  gentleman  in  Milby,  and  he  wished 
to  take  Geordie  with  him. 

"  Why  under  the  sun  don't  you  send 
them  on  the  cars,  instead  of  taking  them 
yourself?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarke. 

"  Well,  that's  one  of  old  Mr.  Ferrand's 
notions.  He  thinks  it's  very  dangerous 
to  transport  horses  on  the  cars.  It  ain't 
anything  but  a  notion,  but  the  ponies  is 
his'n,  and  he's  got  a  right  to  say  what's 
to  be  done  about  them." 


A   TRIP  TO   MILBY.  133 

"  It's  taking  a  good  deal  of  your  time," 
observed  Mrs.  Clarke. 

"Well,  yes — two  days;  but,  you  see, 
boss  has  had  the  use  of  the  ponies  more 
or  less  for  a  year,  and  he  can  afford  to 
spare  me  a  couple  of  days;  and  I  ain't 
afraid  the  old  gentleman  will  let  me  lose 
anything,  nor  Miss  Rhoda  either.  The 
ponies  are  really  hers,  and  she's  an  old 
friend  of  mine.  The  question  is,  Will 
you  let  Geordie  go  with  me?  I  shall  be 
the  better  of  his  company,  and  I  don't 
believe  he'll  be  the  worse  of  the  ride.  I 
I  shall  be  two  days  on  the  road,  for  I've 
got  some  business  to  do  for  boss  at  Vic- 
tor ;  and  besides,  I  don't  want  to  tire  the 
ponies." 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  let 
Geordie  go,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  It  will 
be  an  amusement  to  him,  and  take  off 
his  attention  a  little.  Ever  since  Lo- 
renda  Hitchcock  talked  about  his  being 
blind,  he  has  seemed  out  of  spirits.  I 
can  see  that  he  thinks  about  his  eyes  all 
12 


134  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

the  time,  though  he  never  complains.  I 
wish  you  could  take  him  to  a  real  good 
eye  doctor,  and  have  his  eyes  examined, 
Jeduthun." 

"Well,  so  I  can,"  said  Jeduthun. 
"There's  Doctor  R.  I  don't  suppose 
anybody  knows  more  about  eyes  than  he 
does.  He  operated  on  Kissy's  old  Aunt 
Phebe  when  she  was  past  eighty  years, 
and  the  old  woman  can  see  to  pick  up 
a  needle  on  the  floor.  I'll  take  Geordie 
to  him  if  you  like,  but  I  suppose  it  will 
cost  something." 

Mrs.  Clarke  went  to  her  desk  and 
took  out  a  bill. 

"  There's  five  dollars,"  said  she.  "That 
ought  to  be  enough.  If  there's  any  to 
spare,  give  it  to  George  for  spending- 
money." 

"  All  right,"  said  Jeduthun.  "  Haven't 
you  got  any  errands  yourself?" 

"  Oh  yes,  plenty  of  errands  if  I  had 
any  money,"  answered  Mrs.  Clarke,  smil- 
ing. "  But  don't  you  tell  Geordie.  I 


A   TRIP    TO   MILBY.  135 

want  to  tell  him  myself;  and  mind  you 
send  him  home  early.  The  nights  are 
getting  damp,  and  I'm  always  afraid  of 
his  walking  into  the  water.  He's  such 
an  absent-minded  young  one !" 

"  All  right,"  said  Jeduthun,  again, 
and  departed  chuckling  to  himself  over 
the  success  of  his  plan. 

"  Mrs.  Clarke  used  to  act  like  a  cow 
with  a  strange  calf,"  he  remarked,  in  re- 
counting the  interview  to  Keziah,  "  but 
since  Geordie  was  sick,  she's  getting  to 
be  like  a  hen  with  one  chicken.  I'm 
'most  afraid  she'll  spoil  him." 

"  Don't  you  be  scared,"  replied  Keziah. 
"  The  boy  ain't  half  as  likely  to  be  spiled 
as  he  was  before.  Vinegar  will  spile 
milk  a  sight  quicker  than  sugar  will. 
Geordie  is  doing  her  good,  and  she  won't 
do  him  no  harm,  not  as  things  are  now. 
Well,  as  long  as  you're  a-going,  I  guess 
I'll  bake  a  little  chicken  pie  and  some 
biscuit,  so's  you  can  have  a  good  lunch. 
So  go  'long  and  kill  the  chickens,  old 


136  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

man,  and  don't  you  trouble  yourself 
about  Geordie,  nor  Mis'  Clarke  neither." 

Mrs.  Clarke  told  Geordie  the  news 
when  he  returned,  and  was  gratified  to 
see  him  show  as  much  joy  as  she  ex- 
pected. 

"  You  won't  mind  about  going  to  the 
doctor's,  will  you  ?" 

"No,"  said  Geordie.  "I  suppose  he 
will  tell  me  just  how  it  is,  and  I  would 
rather  know  than  to  be  fancying  things 
all  the  time." 

"Then  you  do  think  there  is  some 
fancy  in  it  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarke,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,  because  I  can  see  to 
shoot  about  as  well  as  ever;  but  my 
eyes  do  feel  bad  if  I  try  to  study  a  bit." 

"  1  guess  they'll  get  over  it.  Well, 
now  we  will  have  our  Bible  reading  and 
go  to  bed,  for  Jeduthun  means  to  take 
an  early  start,  he  tells  me." 

The  custom  of  Bible  reading  had  be- 
gun while  Geordie  was  sick,  and  had 
been  continued  ever  since.  Geordie  used 


A   TRIP   TO   MILBY.  137 

to  wish  his  aunt  would  have  prayers,  as 
his  father  used  to  do,  but  he  did  not 
venture  to  propose  it. 

"Well,  there!  go  to  bed,"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke,  when  the  reading  was  concluded. 
"  I'm  glad  you  are  going  to  have  a  good 
time,  but  I  shall  miss  you.  It  will  seem 
queer  to  have  you  away." 

"Don't  you  feel  well,  aunt?"  asked 
Geordie,  wno  had  not  become  s"o  far  ac- 
customed to  his  aunt's  change  of  feeling 
as  not  to  be  a  little  surprised  at  every 
expression  of  affection.  "  Perhaps  I  had 
better  not  go,  after  all." 

"Bless  the  boy!"  said  Mrs.  Clarke, 
laughing.  "  Does  he  think  I  can't  get 
along  without  him  one  day,  when  I  never 
saw  him  till  six  months  ago?  You've 
got  a  good  conceit  of  yourself,  child. 
There !  go  along  to  bed,  and  don't  bother 
me." 

Geordie  laughed  too ;  and  kissing  his 
aunt  again,  he  went  up  to  bed  in  very 
good  spirits.  He  had  been  pleased  and 
12* 


138  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

diverted  by  his  success  in  shooting,  he 
enjoyed  the  prospect  of  his  little  journey, 
and,  above  all,  he  was  happy  in  his  aunt's 
kindness  and  affection,  for  Geordie  was 
a  warm-hearted  little  fellow,  and  wanted 
to  please  everybody. 

"  I  won't  worry  any  more  about  being 
blind,"  he  said  to  himself,  after  he  had 
said  his  prayers ;  "I  mean  to  try  not  to 
think  about  it  again,  nor  the  knife  either. 
I  am  sure  it  will  all  be  brought  right 
somehow.  As  long  as  Aunt  Clarke  is  so 
good,  and  believes  that  I  told  the  truth, 
I  needn't  mind  so  much  about  Miss 
Bartlett." 

The  next  morning,  before  seven  o'clock, 
Jeduthun  and  Geordie  were  on  their 
way  to  Milby  in  Mr.  Ferrand's  light  car- 
riage, behind  the  pretty  black  ponies. 
Keziah  had  carried  out  her  intentions 
with  respect  to  the  chicken  pie,  and  Mrs. 
Clarke  had  also  provided  a  lunch,  so  they 
were  not  likely  to  starve. 

The  morning  was  beautiful,  the  ponies 


A  TKIP   TO   MILBY.  139 

in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  the  roads  in  per- 
fect o  adition,  neither  dusty  nor  muddy. 
Jeduthun  was  a  most  amusing  companion, 
and  as  they  left  the  miles  behind  them 
Geordie  seemed  to  leave  his  troubles  be- 
hind him  as  well.  He  and  Jeduthun 
told  each  other  stories,  sung  songs,  and 
talked  a  deal  of  nonsense  which  did 
neither  of  them  any  harm. 

They  stopped  over-night  at  a  pretty 
country  village,  where  Jeduthun  had 
some  business ;  and  taking  an  early  start 
next  morning,  they  arrived  at  Milby 
before  noon. 

"  Now  we  will  drive  straight  to  the  old 
gentleman's,"  said  Jeduthun;  "and  if 
she  is  only  at  home,  I'll  show  you  one  of 
the  nicest  young  ladies  you  ever  saw." 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  my  young  lady," 
said  Geordie,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Maybe  we  will  if  we  keep  a  bright  look 
out,"  answered  Jeduthun.  "I' shouldn't 
be  surprised  at  all.  This  is  Mr.  Fer- 
rand's  place.  Ain't  it  pretty  ?" 


140  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  Beautiful !"  said  Geordie,  with  enthu- 
siasm. "  I  think  it  is  the  prettiest  place 
I  ever  saw,  and  so  neat.  The  grass  looks 
as  if  it  had  been  combed  and  brushed 
every  day." 

"  That's  Mr.  Ferrand's  way.  He's  got 
his  notions,  but  he's  a  very  nice  old 
gentleman,  after  all ;  so  you  mustn't  mind 
if  he  seems  a  little  stiff  and  pompous. 
Just  jump  out  and  open  the  gate,  will 

you?" 

Jeduthun  drove  round  to  the  back 
door ;  and  tying  the  ponies,  he  knocked, 
and  asked  for  Mr.  Ferrand  who  soon 
made  his  appearance,  and  greeted  Jedu- 
thun with  much  politeness  and  a  good 
deal  of  condescension. 

"  And  who's  this  young  lad  ?"  asked 
Mr.  Ferrand,  turning  to  Geordie  after  a 
few  minutes'  conversation  with  Jeduthun. 

"This  is  George  McGregor,  a  neigh- 
bour of  mine,"  answered  Jeduthun.  "  He's 
been  sick,  and  his  aunt  wants  him  to  see 
an  eye  doctor;  and  so  I  brought  him 


A   TRIP   TO   MILBY.  141 

along,  thinking  the  ride  would  do  him 
good." 

"  Quite  right,  quite  right,"  said  Mr. 
Ferrand.  "  You  will  find  Doctor  R.  the 
best  person  to  consult  in  the  matter.  But 
here  comes  my  daughter  to  see  her  pets. 
Rhoda,  here  are  your  ponies,  in  fine 
condition,  brought  by  an  old  friend  of 
yours." 

Before  the  young  woman  could  glance  at 
the  horses  or  shake  hands  with  Jeduthun, 
Geordie  sprung  forward  and  seized  her 
hand. 

"Oh,  it's  my  young  lady,  it's  my 
young  lady  !"  he  exclaimed,  hardly  know- 
ing what  he  said.  "  Oh,  won't  you  please 
tell  them  that  I  didn't  steal  the  knife, 
and  that  I  did  tell  the  truth  about  it  ?" 

"What  does  this  mean?"  said  Mr. 
Ferrand,  in  some  displeasure.  "My 
daughter,  do  you  know  this  boy  ?" 

"I  think  I  do,"  said  Miss  Thurston, 
smiling.  "You  are  George  McGregor, 
to  whom  I  gave  a  knife  on  the  cars. 


142  THE   TAME   TUKTLE. 

But  what  is  this  about  stealing  ?  I  hope 
no  one  accused  you  of  stealing  the 
knife?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  Geordie. 
"  Ira  Gardner  said  it  was  his  and  I 
stole  it  out  of  his  desk,  and  I  said  you 
gave  it  to  me,  and  Miss  Bartlett  said  I 
was  telling  lies,  and — " 

But  here  Geordie's  voice  failed  him. 
He  could  not  finish  the  story  of  his  dis- 
grace. 

"The  long  and  short  of  it  was  that 
the  schoolma'am  wouldn't  believe  it," 
said  Jeduthun ;  "  so  she  whipped  the 
child  to  make  him  own  up." 

"  A  most  improper  and  unjust  proceed- 
ing," said  Mr.  Ferrand ;  "  but  continue 
if  you  please,  Jeduthun.  I  am  much 
interested." 

"So  when  Geordie  couldn't  stand  it 
any  longer,  he  owned  up,  and  then  he 
felt  so  bad  because  he  hadn't  stuck  to 
the  truth  that  it  fairly  made  him  sick — 
that  and  jumping  into  the  pond  to  save 


A   TEIP   TO    MILBY.  143 

his  aunt's  old  cat.  We  thought  he 
wouldn't  live  for  a  while." 

"Poor  child!"  said  Mr.  Ferrand  and 
Rhoda  together,  and  Mr.  Ferrand  added  : 
"  I  think,  daughter,  you  must  set  this 
matter  right  as  soon  as  possible.  Perhaps 
you  had  better  hasten  your  proposed  visit 
to  Mrs.  Antis." 

"  I  believe  I  will,"  answered  Miss 
Thurston.  "Poor  Geordie !  I  little 
thought  what  distress  you  were  under- 
going on  my  account.  It  never  occurred 
to  me  that  the  knife  would  bring  you 
into  any  trouble.  I  wish  I  had  given 
you  my  address.  And  so  you  jumped 
into  the  water  after  the  cat  ?" 

"  Right  in  above  the  plaster  -  mill 
flume,"  said  Jeduthun.  "If  I  hadn't 
seen  it,  he  and  old  Muiigo  would  have 
gone  under  together." 

"  That  was  not  very  wise,  to  risk  your 
life  for  that  of  a  cat,"  observed  Mr. 
Ferrand. 

"  I    never    thought    anything    about 


144  THE   TAME   TUKTLE. 

that,"  said  Geordie,  simply.  "  I  heard 
him  mew  and  saw  how  pitiful  he  looked ; 
and  besides,  Aunt  Clarke  thinks  every- 
thing of  him." 

"  I  think  you  are  a  bit  of  a  hero, 
Geordie,"  said  Miss  Thurston,  smiling. 
"But  you  and  Jeduthun  must  come  in 
and  have  some  dinner,  and  we  will  con- 
sider what  is  to  be  done  for  the  clearing 
up  of  your  character." 

After  they  had  had  their  dinner,  Geor- 
die had  to  amuse  himself  with  looking 
over  the  garden  and  greenhouse,  while 
Jeduthun  was  in  the  library  with  Mr. 
Ferrand  and  his  daughter.  Presently, 
however,  the  servant  came  to  call  him, 
saying  that  Mr.  Ferrand  wanted  to  see 
him.  Never  had  Geordie  seen  so  hand- 
some a  room,  or  so  many  books  together. 
His  attention  was  almost  diverted  from 
what  Miss  Thurston  was  saying,  as  he 
thought  how  happy  she  must  be  to  live 
in  the  house  with  so  many  books. 

"Now,   Geordie,   listen   to   me,"  said 


A   TRIP  TO   MILBY.  145 

Miss  Thurston.  "  I  think  it  better  to  at- 
tend to  this  matter  myself,  instead  of 
writing,  as  I  at  first  intended.  But  I 
cannot  come  down  to  Boonville  before 
next  week.  Can  you  be  content  to  wait 
till  that  time  to  have  your  innocence 
established,  and  say  nothing  about  the 
matter  to  any  one  but  your  aunt  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  ma'am,"  answered  Geordie, 
eagerly.  "  I  don't  mind  waiting  a  bit." 

"  Very  good.  Now  I  want  to  ask  you 
a  few  questions." 

Miss  Thurston  then  questioned  Geordie 
about  his  father's  name  and  the  date  and 
circumstances  of  his  death,  writing  down 
his  answers  in  her  note-book. 

"  Now,  then,  I  want  to  give  you  some- 
thing to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  your 
keepsake,"  said  she,  after  she  had  fin- 
ished. "What  shall  it  be?  Another 
knife?" 

"  His  aunt  gave  him  a  nice  knife," 
said  Jeduthun,  as  Geordie  hesitated, 
hardly  knowing  what  he  ought  to  say. 

13  K 


146  THE   TAME  TUETLE. 

"  I  guess  Geordie  would  like  a  book  bet- 
ter than  anything  else.  He's  a  great 
hand  to  read." 

"  A  book  it  shall  be,  then,"  said  Miss 
Thurston ;  and  turning  to  one  of  the 
cases,  she  brought  out  a  beautiful  copy 
of  "  Robinson  Crusoe." 

"  There !  I  bought  that  for  another 
little  boy,  but  I  can  easily  replace  it." 

"My  dear  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Fer- 
rand,  in  rather  a  remonstrating  tone  • 
and  going  to  the  same  case,  he  produced 
a  copy  of  the  "  Victoria  Eftstory  of 
England,"  nicely  bound  and  illustrated. 

"There,  my  boy!"  said  he;  "that 
will  give  you  a  great  deal  of  useful 
and  reliable  information." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Geordie, 
gratefully.  "  I  always  did  love  to  read 
history,  especially  English  history." 

"  Very  good,  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Fer- 
raud  ;  "  I  hope  you  will  retain  that  taste. 
Now,  if  you  are  going  to  see  the  doctor, 
it  is  time  you  were  on  your  way." 


A   TRIP   TO  MILBY.  147 

"And  remember,  you  are  not  to  say 
anything  at  home  about  this  visit,"  said 
Miss  Thurston.  "  Let  me  see  now  if  you 
can  keep  a  secret." 

"  I  guess  I  can,"  said  Geordie,  rather 
proudly. 

"  Even  if  my  visit  should  be  put  off  a 
week  or  two  ?" 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  if  it  was  put  off  a 
year,  now  I  know  you  are  coming," 
answered  Geordie,  speaking  more  freely ; 
"  but  it  has  been  pretty  hard,  I  can  tell 
you.  Sometimes  I  have  almost  thought 
1  did  take  the  knife,  after  all." 

"Such  a  state  of  mind  has  not  been 
uncommon  among  persons  similarly  situ- 
ated," said  Mr.  Ferrand.  "  It  has  been 
not  unusual  for  people  to  become  so  con- 
fused as  not  only  to  confess  crimes  they 
never  committed,  but  actually  to  believe 
themselves  guilty." 

"  I  suppose  that  was  the  way  with  the 
witches  in  old  times,  wasn't  it?"  asked 
Geordie,  much  interested. 


148  THE   TAME  TURTLE. 

"  Very  often,  I  dare  say.  Where  did 
you  learn  about  them?" 

"  I  read  it  in  a  great  book  father  had," 
replied  Geordie.  "  You  see  I  didn't  have 
a  great  many  children's  books,  and  so  I 
had  to  read  big  books  or  none  at  all." 

"And  did  you  understand  the  big 
books  ?"  asked  Mr.  Ferraud. 

"No,  sir,  not  all — some  of  them  I 
could  not  understand  at  all ;  but  I  used 
to  read  the  histories  and  biographies, 
and  the  notes  in  the  big  Bible." 

"  And  was  your  father  fond  of  books  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  very ;  but  he  couldn't  afford 
to  have  many,  because  we  needed  so  many 
other  things.  Once  a  gentleman  sent 
him  a  beautiful  set  of  books,  and  father 
was  so  pleased,  because  he  said  if  the 
gentleman  had  sent  the  money  he  would 
have  felt  obliged  to  lay  it  out  on  other 
things,  but  now  he  could  enjoy  them 
without  thinking  all  the  time  of  his  old 
overcoat  or  the  place  in  the  church  roof 
which  needed  mending." 


A   TRIP   TO   MILBY.  149 

Mr.  Ferrand  and  his  daughter  both 
smiled. 

"  Your  father  must  have  been  a  very 
good  man,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Thurston. 
"  I  hope  you  will  follow  in  his  steps. 
Now,  good-bye,  till  I  see  you  again." 

"  Well,  so  you  did  find  your  young 
lady,  after  all,"  said  Juduthun  as  they 
walked  down  the  street.  "  I  mistrusted 
all  the  time  it  was  Miss  Hhoda,  after  you 
told  me  how  she  looked.  That  was  one 
reason  I  wanted  to  fetch  you  along  to- 
day." 

•"  I  knew  her  the  very  first  minute," 
said  Geordie.  "  How  pretty  she  is,  and 
what  a  nice  old  gentleman  her  father 
seems  to  be !  But  why  is  she  called  Miss 
Thurston  when  her  father's  name  is 
Ferrand?" 

"  Oh,  she  ain't  his  own  daughter ;  she's 
an  adopted  child,"  said  Jeduthun.  "  She 
used  to  live  in  Boonville,  but  her  folks 
there  turned  her  off  as  soon  as  they  got 
one  of  the^r  own.  Then  she  went  to 


150  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

Mr.  Ferrand's  to  live,  and  his  daughter, 
who  died  afterward,  took  a  great  fancy  to 
her.  So  the  family  sent  her  to  school, 
and  finally  Mr.  Ferrand  adopted  her, 
and  she  has  been  the  greatest  comfort  to 
him,  especially  since  his  wife  died.  He's 
done  well  by  her — took  her  to  Europe 
and  gave  her  a  first-rate  education ;  but 
he  gets  it  all  back,  for  a  more  dutiful 
child  couldn't  be  than  she  is  to  the  old 
man.  He  is  a  real  fine  old  gentleman 
too,  for  all  he  has  his  notions.  Well, 
here  we  are  at  the  doctor's.  You  won't 
be  scared,  now,  will  you  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  Geordie,  but  his  heart 
beat  fast  when  he  was  ushered  into  the 
doctor's  presence. 

Dr.  R.  was  very  kind.  He  saw  that 
Geordie  was  agitated,  and  to  give  him 
time  to  recover  talked  to  Jeduthun,  ask- 
ing what  he  knew  about  the  case.  Then 
he  questioned  Geordie,  who  quickly  re- 
gained his  composure  and  answered  the 
doctor's  questions  very  sensibly.  He 


A   TRIP   TO   MILBY.  151 

examined  his  eyes ;  and  then,  taking  him 
into  a  dark  room  and  lighting  a  gas-jet 
behind  him,  he  looked  into  the  boy's 
eyes  with  an  instrument  which  made 
Geordie  feel  as  if  a  lamp  were  lighted 
inside  his  head. 

"Well,  my  boy,  I  can  tell  you  for 
your  comfort  that  there  is  nothing  the 
matter  with  your  eyes,"  said  Doctor  R., 
at  last.  "  They  are  only  weak  from 
illness ;  and  when  you  get  back  your 
strength,  they  will  be  as  well  as  ever 
they  were.  Oh,  come,  don't  cry!  Why, 
you  shouldn't  cry  at  hearing  good  news, 
surely." 

"  He  feels  so  kind  of  relieved,  don't 
you  see  ?"  remarked  Jeduthun.  "  He'd 
quite  made  up  his  mind  that  he  was 
going  to  be  stone-blind  and  have  to 
make  baskets  for  a  living." 

"  I'll  agree  to  eat  all  the  baskets  he 
makes  after  he  is  blind,  if  nothing  more 
ails  his  eyes  than  is  the  matter  with 
them  now,"  said  Dr.  ]$,  "  Why,  I  dare 


152  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

say  your  arms  are  not  as  strong  as  they 
were  before  you  were  sick  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  but  then  my  eyes  did  feel  so 
bad,  and  it  seemed  so  dreadful  to  think 
of  being  blind,"  said  Geordie,  wiping  his 
eyes  and  feeling  rather  ashamed.  "  I 
used  to  think  of  it  every  time  I  put  the 
candle  out  at  night,  and  once  I  fell  down 
stairs  trying  to  see  whether  I  could  walk 
with  my  eyes  shut.  Aunt  Clarke  said 
I  was  a  goose." 

"Aunt  Clarke  was  right.  Time  enough 
to  learn  to  walk  in  the  dark  when  you 
have  to.  Don't  borrow  trouble  about 
your  eyes.  Be  careful  about  using 
them  till  they  get  strong,  and  they  will 
do  well  enough." 

"  Can't  I  do  any  reading  at  all  ?"  asked 
Geordie. 

"Oh  yes,  only  do  not  tire  yourself. 
When  you  find  your  eyes  growing  dim 
or  your  head  beginning  to  ache,  put 
down  your  book  directly  and  run  out  to 
play.  Keep  out  of  doors  all  you  can  as 


A   TRIP   TO   MILBY.  153 

long  as  the  warm  weather  lasts,  and 
you'll  be  all  right." 

"  Don't  it  seem  too  good  to  be  true  ?" 
said  Geordie  as  they  walked  away  from 
the  doctor's  office. 

"  Well,  no,  I  don't  know  that  it  does," 
answered  Jeduthun.  "Why  shouldn't 
good  things  be  true  as  well  as  bad  ones  ? 
But  I'm  mighty  glad  you  went  to  see 
him,  for  now  you  won't  be  fretting  and 
walking  down  stairs  head  first  to  see 
what  you  will  do  when  you  are  blind." 

"  When  did  Miss  Thurston  say  she 
was  coming?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarke,  when 
she  heard  the  story. 

"  Next  week,  some  time." 

"  Very  well.  We  will  keep  all  quiet 
till  then." 

"  Shall  I  go  to  school  ?" 

"  Just  as  you  like.  You  might  go 
half  a  day  at  least,  but  do  just  as  you 
please  about  it.  I  think  perhaps  it  will 
be  less  dull  than  staying  at  home  all  the 
time." 


154  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  It  isn't  dull  a  bit  staying  at  home," 
said  Geordie ;  "  but  I  don't  want  to  for  - 
get  all  my  arithmetic,  so  perhaps  I  had 
better  go  in  the  mornings.  I  wonder 
what  Miss  Bartlett  will  say  when  she 
finds  out  ?" 

"  Mind  you  don't  tell  her." 

"  She  told  me  never  to  mention  the 
subject  to  her  again,"  said  George ;  "  so  I 
can't  tell  her  if  I  wanted  to." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  EXPLANATION. 

EOKDIE  did  not  receive  a  very 
warm  welcome  from  Miss  Bart- 
lett  when  he  returned  to  school. 
In  fact,  she  made  it  very  appar- 
ent that  she  would  have  been  better 
pleased  had  he  stayed  away.  Miss  Bart- 
lett  was  one  of  those  people — and  they 
are  not  by  any  means  uncommon — who, 
professing  a  great  deal  of  reason  and 
liberality,  are  governed  almost  wholly  by 
their  prejudices,  and  never  forgive  any 
one  who  takes  the  liberty  of  differing 
from  them.  She  had  made  the  school 
as  uncomfortable  as  possible  for  David 
Brown  and  Tom  Parsons,  because  they 
believed  that  Geordie  was  innocent,  and 
she  bestowed  an  extra  amount  of  petting 

155 


156  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

and  praise  on  Ira  Gardner — a  proceed- 
ing "which  did  not  tend  to  make  him  any 
more  comfortable  in  his  own  mind  or 
improve  his  position  with  his  playmates. 

Miss  Bartlett  listened  while  Geordie 
somewhat  timidly  explained  his  aunt's 
wishes,  and  replied,  coldly, 

"  I  hardly  think  it  worth  while  for 
you  to  attend  only  half  a  day,  and  you 
have  not  behaved  so  well  that  I  should 
make  any  exception  in  your  favour." 

"Aunt  Clarke  spoke  to  Mr.  Antis 
about  it,  and  he  said  I  might,"  said 
Geordie.  Mr.  Antis  was  chairman  of 
the  school  committee. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Miss  Bartlett,  more 
coldly  than  before.  "  You  can  try  it, 
and  I  hope  you  will  try  to  be  a  better 
boy  at  the  same  time." 

Geordie  did  not  make  any  answer,  but 
in  his  own  mind  he  wondered  what 
would  be  the  use  of  his  trying  to  be  a 
better  boy  if  what  Miss  Bartlett  said  had 
been  true.  However,  he  did  his  best 


THE   EXPLANATION.  157 

with  his  arithmetic  and  geography,  and 
offended  Miss  Bartlett  still  more  by  go- 
ing up  three  places  in  the  spelling-class. 
When  recess  came,  he  rather  dreaded  to 
go  out,  but  he  soon  forgot  his  fears  in 
the  cordial  welcome  he  received  from 
his  schoolmates,  who  made  him  quite  a 
hero.  True,  two  or  three  of  them  still 
stood  aloof  and  persisted  in  believing 
that  he  had  taken  the  knife,  but  most 
of  them  were  loud  in  asserting  their  be- 
lief in  his  innocence,  and  equally  loud 
in  condemning  Ira  Gardner. 

"Oh,  well,  I  suppose  he  really  did 
think  so,"  said  Geordie,  who,  happy  as 
he  was,  could  afford  to  be  charitable  to 
Ira. 

"  Does  he  think  so  now  ?"  asked  Tom 
Parsons,  looking  steadily  at  Ira,  who 
coloured  and  seemed  very  uncomfortable. 

"  Suppose  I  do — I  ain't  the  only  one ; 
and  anyhow,  it  is  no  business  of  yours, 
Tom  Parsons;"  and  Ira  walked  off  to 
the  other  end  of  the  playground. 

14 


158  THE  TAME  TUETLE. 

Tom  looked  after  him  with  a  mingled 
look  of  wonder  and  contempt. 

"  He  knows  all  about  it,"  said  Tom. 
"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  had  both 
knives  in  his  pocket  this  very  minute." 

Tom  was  right.  Ira  had  the  knives 
in  his  pocket.  He  had  brought  Geor- 
die's  knife  to  school,  really  intending  to 
tell  the  truth ;  but  once  on  the  spot,  and 
seeing  Miss  Bartlett's  evident  ill-humour, 
his  courage  failed  him. 

"  She'd  be  sure  to  whip  me,"  he  said 
to  himself;  "and  Geordie  has  got  a  new 
knife,  and  a  much  nicer  one,  so  what 
does  it  signify?  I  won't  tell  any  lies 
about  it,  whatever  happens." 

But  unluckily,  when  one  once  begins 
to  tell  lies,  there  is  no  calculating  how 
many  will  be  required. 

After  school  was  out,  Miss  Bartlett 
called  Ira  up  to  her  desk. 

"  I  suppose,  Ira,  you  have  never  found 
your  knife  ?"  said  she. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  answered  Ira,  promptly. 


dame  Curtlf. 


"  I  suppose,  Ira,  yon  have  never  found  your  knife' 

p.  158. 


THE   EXPLANATION.  159 

"Are  you  quite  sure  you  left  it  in 
school?" 

"  Oh  yes,  ma'am." 

"And  you  are  certain  that  the  knife 
Geordie  had  was  yours  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  at  least  it  was  exactly 
like  it." 

"  I  presume  you  are  right,"  said  Miss 
Bartlett.  "  I  am  glad  there  is  one  boy 
in  the  school  that  I  can  trust.  I  felt 
sure  you  were  such  a  one  from  the  first, 
and  equally  certain  that  George  McGregor 
was  not.  I  am  rarely  if  ever  mistaken 
in  my  judgment  of  character.  How  did 
the  children  treat  George  in  recess  ?" 

"Oh,  they  think  he  is  all  right," 
answered  Ira,  with  an  injured  expression. 
"  They  all  think  he  didn't  take  the  knife 
at  all,  and  Tom  Parsons  said  he  believed 
I  had  got  both  knives  in  my  pocket." 

"That  was  very  wrong,"  said  Miss 
Bartlett.  "  I  shall  talk  to  Tom." 

"If  you  please,  Miss  Bartlett,  I'd  a 
good  deal  rather  you  didn't,"  said  Ira, 


160  THE  TAME   TURTLE. 

alarmed,  and  feeling  that  Miss  Bartlett's 
championship  was  not  likely  to  do  him 
any  good.  "Tom  might  think  I  had 
been  telling  tales;  and  I  don't  want  to 
get  him  or  any  one  into  trouble,"  added 
Ira,  desperately,  feeling  that  he  must 
make  out  his  case  at  any  cost.  "  I  never 
would  have  said  anything  about  the  knife 
if  I  had  known  it  would  make  so  much 
fuss." 

"  I  suppose  you  thought  George  would 
give  it  up  as  soon  as  you  claimed  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  or  else  I  wouldn't  have 
said  a  word.  I  did  offer  to  give  it  to 
him  afterward,  but  he  wouldn't  even 
speak  to  me." 

"  He  is  a  very  naughty  boy,  and  will 
come  to  no  good,"  said  Miss  Bartlett, 
severely,  "  and  you  are  a  very  good  boy, 
and  one  that  I  can  trust." 

"  Then  you  won't  speak  to  Tom  ?"  Ira 
ventured  to  say. 

"  No,  not  if  you  don't  wish  it." 

And  Ira  went  away,  feeling  some  few 


THE   EXPLANATION.  161 

shades  meaner  than  before,  but  on  the 
whole  pretty  well  satisfied  with  his  morn- 
ing's work.  Miss  Bartlett's  confidence  in 
him  ought  to  have  made  him  heartily 
ashamed  of  his  deception,  and  with 
Geordie  it  would  have  had  such  an  effect. 
But  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  only  effect 
it  had  on  Ira  was  to  produce  a  contempt 
for  his  teacher's  "  softness,"  as  he  called  it. 

"  She  thinks  she's  so  sharp,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  and  she  can't  see  a  hole  through 
a  ladder,  as  father  says.  I'm  glad,  on 
the  whole,  that  I  didn't  give  Geordie 
back  the  knife  this  morning.  It  would 
only  have  made  no  end  of  a  fuss." 

Ira  had  not  been  a  very  good  boy  for 
some  time,  but  the  events  of  the  last 
month  had  sent  him  a  long  way  down 
hill. 

About  the  middle  of  the  next  week 
Jeduthun  drove  up  to  Mrs.  Clarke's  door 
in  a  light  carriage  and  called  Geordie 
out. 

"  I'm  going  over  to  the  Springs  to  meet 

14*  L 


162  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

Miss  Khoda,"  said  he :  "  Mrs.  Antis  had  a 
letter  this  morning.  You  go  to  school 
to-morrow  just  as  usual,  and  see  what 
you'll  see." 

"I  hope  they  won't  do  anything  to 
Miss  Bartlett,"  said  Geordie,  struck  with 
a  sudden  thought. 

"You  needn't  trouble  yourself  about 
that,"  answered  Jeduthun.  "  Mr.  Antis  is 
one  of  the  school  committee,  you  know, 
and  I  expect  they'll  manage  the  matter 
their  own  way.  But  why  don't  you 
want  anything  done  to  Miss  Bartlett? 
She  hasn't  used  you  very  good." 

"No,  I  don't  think  she  has,"  said 
Geordie,  slowly;  "but  still,  I  wouldn't 
want  her  to  be  troubled.  I  suppose  she 
thinks  she  did  right ;  and  anyhow,  Jedu- 
thun, it  isn't  right  to  want  to  pay  people 
off  for  hurting  you,  is  it  ?" 

"  Well,  no,  I  don't  think  it  is,  Geordie. 
It  ain't  according  to  Scripture ;  and  be- 
sides, I  doubt  if  revenge  makes  one  feel 
any  better  in  the  long  run.  I  guess  you 


THE  EXPLANATION.  163 

haven't  got  much  Indian  about  you,  after 
all  your  bringing  up." 

"There  are  just  as  good  Indians  as 
there  are  white  folks,"  said  Geordie, 
firing  up,  as  usual,  in  defence  of  his 
Indian  friends.  "Of  course  you  can't 
expect  them  to  act  according  to  the  Bible 
when  they  don't  know  anything  about  it, 
but  father  said  he  never  saw  more  con- 
sistent Christians  anywhere  than  those  in 
our  church  at  Kettle  Prairie." 

"I  dare  say  not.  Well,  I  must  go. 
Don't  you  want  to  ride  over  ?" 

"  I  guess  not,"  answered  Geordie,  look- 
ing rather  wistfully  at  the  wagon.  "  Aunt 
don't  like  to  have  me  out  in  the  evening, 
for  fear  of  my  getting  cold  and  being 
sick  again ;  so  I  guess  I  won't  ask  her." 

"Well,  good-night,"  said  Jeduthun. 
"  Mind  you  don't  say  a  word.  It  does 
beat  all,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  drove 
away.  "  Three  months  ago  Mis'  Clarke 
thought  nothing  of  sending  him  out  in 
any  kind  of  a  storm,  because  she  said  he 


164  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

ought  to  be  hardened,  and  now  she  treats 
him  as  if  he  was  made  of  wax  or  sugar. 
She's  one  of  the  folks  that  have  always 
got  to  be  at  one  end  or  the  other — never 
can  stay  in  the  middle." 

The  next  morning,  Geordie  timed  his 
going  to  school  so  as  to  arrive  just  as  the 
last  bell  rung.  His  heart  was  beating 
'fast,  and  he  was  in  a  tremor  of  expecta- 
tion of  he  knew  not  what.  School  was 
opened  as  usual,  and  the  first  reading- 
class  was  in  progress,  when  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door.  Thomas  Parsons 
opened  it,  and  ushered  in  Mr.  Antis,  Mr. 
Badger,  and  Miss  Thurston. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Bartlett,"  said 
Mr.  Antis,  politely.  "  Don't  let  us  inter- 
rupt your  class."  He  introduced  Miss 
Thurston,  and  then  requested  the  children 
to  go  on  with  their  reading. 

Miss  Bartlett  was  somewhat  fluttered 
and  a  good  deal  flattered.  She  had  never 
seen  Miss  Thurston,  but  she  had  heard 
of  hftr  as  a  young  lady  who  had  been 


THE   EXPLANATION.  165 

educated  abroad,  who  was  very  rich  and 
charitable,  and  whose  father  was  known 
to  take  a  great  interest  in  education. 
What  if  Mr.  Ferrand  had  heard  of  her 
skill  in  object- teaching  and  school-gym- 
nastics, and  had  sent  his  daughter  to 
observe  her  method  with  a  view  to  pro- 
mote her  -to  a  higher  situation?  She 
hastily  ran  over  in  her  own  mind  a  pro- 
gramme of  exercises  which  should  show 
off  her  method  and  her  pupils  to  the  best 
advantage  before  she  proceeded  with  the 
reading. 

Miss  Thurston  sat  where  she  could  see 
the  whole  school,  and  as  the  class  was 
dismissed  she  nodded  to  one  and  another 
whom  she  knew,  especially  to  Geordie. 
As  Miss  Bartlett  noticed  the  flash  of 
intelligence  and  joy  which  Geordie's  eyes 
sent  back  to  the  distinguished  visitor,  a 
thought  came  across  her  mind  which  sent 
the  colour  to  her  face  and  stiffened  her 
manners  at  once  from  the  gracious  to  the 
severe.  Could  this  be  George's  young 


166  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

lady  ?  Had  he  told  the  truth,  after  all  ? 
She  was  not  long  left  in  doubt. 

"  Miss  Thurston  would  like  to  say  a 
few  words  to  the  school,  Miss  Bartlett," 
said  Mr.  Antis,  politely.  "  I  suppose 
there  is  no  objection  to  her  doing  so  ?" 

"  I  suppose  not,"  answered  Miss  Bart- 
lett, not  very  graciously,  however. 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you  long,"  said 
Miss  Thurston,  rising.  "  I  only  want  to 
set  right  a  mistake  which  I  hear  has 
caused  a  good  deal  of  trouble.  I  have 
been  told  that  my  little  friend,  George 
McGregor,  has  been  accused  of  stealing 
a  knife. " 

There  was  a  little  silence.  The  chil- 
dren looked  at  each  other  and  then  at 
Ira  Gardner,  who  began  already  to  wish 
himself  a  hundred  miles  off. 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  the  story  from, 
the  beginning,"  said  Miss  Thurston. 
"  Miss  Bartlett,  have  you  any  objection 
to  my  asking  a  few  questions  ?" 

"No    objection    whatever,"    answered 


THE   EXPLANATION.  167 

Miss  Bartlett,  shortly  and  somewhat 
sharply. 

Miss  Thurston  looked  round  the  room, 
and  then  called  upon  Thomas  Parsons, 
who  was  the  oldest  boy  in  the  school : 

"  Thomas,  will  you  tell  us  what  you 
know  of  this  matter  ?" 

Tom  collected  his  thoughts,  and  began : 

"  Geordie  showed  me  the  knife  Sun- 
day, and  said  a  lady  on  the  cars  gave 
it  to  him.  Several  of  the  boys  saw  it, 
and  we  never  mistrusted  but  that  he  was 
telling  the  truth." 

"  Then  George  usually  does  tell  the 
truth,  does  he  ?"  asked  Mr.  Antis. 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  think  he  is  as  honest  as 
any  boy  I  ever  knew,  and  I  think  all 
the  boys  will  say  the  same." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  assent  all 
round  the  room. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Antis.  "  Go 
on,  Tom." 

"  Then,  when  we  came  to  school  Mon- 
day morning,  Ira  Gardner  said  Geordie 


168  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

had  got  his  knife,  and  that  he  had  taken 
it  out  of  his  desk,  where  Ira  had  left  it. 
Geordie  denied  it,  and  showed  him  the 
knife,  but  Ira  said  it  was  his,  and  it  did 
look  very  much  like  Ira's.  Then  Ira 
told  Geordie  he  stole  it,  and  Geordie  got 
mad  a  little,  and  told  Ira  he  was  real 
mean,  and  Miss  Bartlett  heard  him  and 
asked  what  was  the  matter.  Then  Ira 
told  her,  and  after  school  began  she 
called  the  boys  up,  and  Geordie  stuck  to 
his  own  story.  Then  Miss  Bartlett  said 
he  was  telling  lies  and  she  would  make 
him  confess,  and  she  whipped  him  three 
times,  and  the  last  time  he  did  confess, 
and  gave  Ira  the  knife.  Then  Geordie 
was  very  sick,  and  didn't  come  to  school 
for  a  good  while;  and  when  he  came 
back,  he  told  us  again  that  he  didn't 
take  the  knife,  and  he  was  sorry  he  said 
he  did,  but  Miss  Bartlett  whipped  him 
so  he  couldn't  stand  it.  That's  all." 

There  was  a  minute's  silence.     Then 
Mr.  Antis  said, 


THE   EXPLANATION.  169 

"  Ira,  have  you  the  knife  now  ?  Let 
me  see  it." 

Ira  pulled  out  the  knife  and  gave  it 
to  Mr.  Antis,  who  handed  it  to  Miss 
Thurston. 

"  I  do  hope  Mr.  Badger  won't  remem- 
ber, now,"  thought  Ira.  "If  he  don't, 
I  can  carry  it  off  yet,  and  he's  so  forget- 
ful I  dare  say  he  won't." 

"  This  knife  is  the  one  I  gave  George 
McGregor  on  the  cars,"  said  Miss  Thurs- 
ton, after  she  had  examined  it ;  "I  re- 
member the  peculiar  colour  of  the  buck- 
horn  handle.  I  never  saw  one  of  such 
a  light  colour.  •  I  fell  in  with  George  on 
the  cars  at  Caneota,  and  he  sat  beside 
me  all  the  way.  We  were  detained  an 
hour  by  a  slight  accident,  and  had  a 
very  interesting  conversation.  I  had 
found  this  knife  in  the  street  at  Milby ; 
and  as  I  could  discover  no  owner  for  it, 
I  concluded  to  give  it  to  George  as  a 
keepsake.  I  never  imagined  that  it  could 
bring  him  into  any  trouble.  I  suppose, 


170  THE  TAME   TURTLE. 

Ira,  you  really  thought  the  knife  was 
yours  ?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  Ira,  deter- 
mined to  put  a  good  face  on  the  matter. 
"I  had  lost  mine  out  of  my  desk  at 
school,  and  some  of  the  girls  saw  Geordie 
go  to  my  desk,  and  I  thought  he  had  got 
it.  I  was  sorry  afterward  that  I  said 
anything,  and  I  offered  to  give  Geordie 
back  the  knife,  but  he  wouldn't  have  it." 

"And  have  you  never  found  your 
knife?" 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"Well,  but  look  here,  Ira,"  said  Mr. 
Badger,  who  had  hithertp  been  a  silent 
spectator  of  the  scene,  "  what  knife  was 
that  which  your  brother  Sam  sent  you  from 
the  Springs  by  me  some  three  weeks  ago  ? 
Sam  told  me  that  it  was  yours — that  you 
lent  it  to  him,  and  he  carried  it  off  by 
mistake.  What  knife  was  that  ?" 

"  That  was  another,  an  old  one,"  an- 
swered Ira. 

"  Well,  but  it  wasn't  an  old  one  at  all." 


THE  EXPLANATION.  171 

persisted  Mr.  Badger,  in  his  deliberate 
way.  "  It  was  a  very  nice  new  one,  and 
Sam  told  me  himself  he  got  it  out  of  the 
store  for  you.  I  remember  that,  because 
I  looked  to  see  if  they  had  any  more  like 
it.  I'm  afraid  you  ain't  telling  the  truth, 
Ira," 

"  Tom  Parsons,  put  your  hand  in  that 
boy's  pocket  and  see  what  he  has  got 
there,"  said  Mr.  Antis,  suddenly  and 
sharply. 

As  suddenly  Tom  obeyed ;  and  before 
Ira  could  prevent  him,  he  pulled  out 
the  new-looking  buckhorn-handled  knife, 
which  did  bear  some  resemblance  to 
Geordie's,  being  made  by  the  same  man- 
ufacturer. 

"  Just  so,"  said  Mr.  Badger,  taking  the 
knife  and  passing  it  to  Mr.  Antis.  "  Miss 
Bartlett,  I  brought  that  knife  over  to  Ira 
three  weeks  ago.  And  all  that  time, 
Ira,  you  have  known  your  mistake,  and 
yet  you  have  gone  on  letting  everybody 
think  that  poor  little  Geordie  was  a  thief 


172  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

and  a  liar.  Keally,  I  don't  know  what 
you  don't  deserve." 

"Why,  that  was  the  very  time  that 
Geordie  was  so  sick,"  exclaimed  Tom. 
"  You  mean  sneak,  you  !" 

"Thomas  Parsons,  be  silent  or  leave 
the  room  this  instant,"  said  Miss  Bartlett. 

"  There  is  little  more  to  be  said,"  re- 
marked Miss  Thurston.  "  I  repeat,  George 
is  quite  innocent  of  any  wrong-doing  in 
the  matter,  except  that  of  telling  a  lie 
under  punishment." 

"  I  have  been  sorry  ever  since,"  Geordie 
ventured  to  say,  "but  she  hurt  me  so. 
I  tried  to  tell  Miss  Bartlett  afterward,  but 
she  wouldn't  hear  me." 

"Well,  never  mind,"  said  Mr.  Antis, 
pitying  what  he  supposed  must  be  Miss 
Bartlett's  distress.  "  I  dare  say  Miss 
Bartlett  is  very  glad  to  find  herself 
mistaken." 

But  Miss  Bartlett  was  not  glad  at  all. 
Geordie's  guilt  or  innocence  was  a  small 
matter  with  her,  compared  with  her  own 


THE   EXPLANATION.  173 

dignity,  for  she  was  one  of  those  people 
who  consider  everything  only  as  it  affects 
themselves. 

"  I  regret  that  such  a  mistake  should 
have  occurred,"  said  she,  trying  to  speak 
calmly,  while  her  voice  trembled  with 
anger  and  mortification ;  "  but  it  is  in  a 
great  degree  George's  own  fault.  If  he 
had  not  treated  me  with  such  uniform 
disrespect,  not  to  say  insolence,  I  should 
have  been  less  ready  to  condemn  him." 

"I  never  meant  to  be  disrespectful, 
Miss  Bartlett,"  said  George  as  Miss  Bart- 
lett  paused  a  moment.  "  I  know  I  did 
laugh  when  you  talked  about  Indians 
hunting  deer  on  horseback  in  the  woods, 
but  I  was  very  sorry,  and  I  said  so." 

"  I  must  say  I  think  this  matter  might 
liave  been  managed  with  more  considera- 
tion for  me,"  continued  Miss  Bartlett, 
not  condescending  to  notice  Geordie's 
words.  "  I  can  see  no  need  of  bringing 
it  up  in  this  public  manner." 

"The    boy   was    publicly   condemned 

15  * 


174  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

and  punished,"  said  Mr.  Antis,  "  and  it 
seemed  only  fair  that  his  vindication 
should  be  public  also.  I  do  not  see  that 
it  was  any  disrespect  to  you,  Miss  Bart- 
lett.  I  do  not  think  we  had  better  dis- 
cuss that  matter  at  present,"  he  added, 
in  a  lower  tone.  "  I  never  supposed  but 
that  you  would  be  glad  to  have  the 
child's  innocence  proved  beyond  a  doubt. 
I  do  not  approve  of  whipping  children 
to  make  them  confess.  It  seems  to  me 
neither  more  nor  less  than  examination 
by  torture;  but  that  might  pass  for  an 
error  in  judgment." 

"  I  do  not  allow  that  it  was  an  error," 
said  Miss  Bartlett,  her  temper  getting 
the  upper  hand  ;  "  I  should  do  the  same 
thing  again.  I  considered  George's  story 
as  altogether  an  improbable  one.  Not 
being  myself  in  the  habit  of  making 
miscellaneous  acquaintances  or  giving 
presents  to  strangers  on  the  cars,  it  did 
not  seem  to  me  at  all  likely  that  any 
lady  would  do  such  a  thing,"  with  a 


THE   EXPLANATION.  175 

severe  emphasis  on  the  word  "  lady."  "  I 
conceived  that  I  was  right  in  using 
measures  to  make  George  confess.  But 
since  you  do  not  approve  of  my  manage- 
ment of  the  school,  I  beg  leave  to  resign 
my  position  as  teacher." 

"  Children,  you  may  go  out  to  play 
a  little  while,"  said  Mr.  Badger — "all 
but  Ira  Gardner,  and  he  may  go  and 
sit  in  that  corner  over  by  the  woodbox." 

"  I  think  I  will  go  out  to  play  with 
the  children,  Mr.  Badger,"  said  Miss 
Thurston.  "  I  should  like  to  renew  my 
acquaintance  with  them,  and  I  have  a 
few  goodies  to  distribute,  if  Miss  Bart- 
lett  has  no  objection." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  about  the  mat- 
ter," answered  Miss  Bartlett ;  "  I  am  no 
longer  their  teacher. 

"  Well,  but  now,  look  here,  Miranda, 
hadn't  you  better  think  this  over  a  lit- 
tle?" said  Mr.  Badger.  "It  won't  be 
very  convenient  for  you  to  be  out  of  a 
school  this  time  of  year." 


176  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

"  I  can  attend  to  my  own  convenience," 
said  Miss  Bartlett,  loftily,  but  thinking 
at  the  same  time  that  if  the  gentlemen 
coaxed  her  enough  she  would  consent  to 
stay.  "  I  beg  leave  to  resign  my  position 
here  from  this  moment.  I  can  not  con- 
sent to  remain  where  I  have  been  so  in- 
sulted, unless  at  least  an  ample  apology 
is  made." 

"  Well,  but  look  here.  It  seems  to  me 
that  you  should  be  ready  to  apologize 
yourself,  before  you  require  it  from  other 
folks.  Just  think  what  you  made  that 
poor  little  fellow  suffer  by  your  injustice ! 
Don't  you  owe  him  an  apology?  How 
would  you  like  to  be  treated  as  you 
treated  him?" 

"  That  is  another  thing.  I  am  not  a 
child." 

"  But  don't  you  think  you  should  do 
as  you  would  be  done  by,  to  children 
as  well  as  to  grown  folks?"  asked  Mr. 
Badger. 

"  I  must  decline  to  discuss  that  matter 


THE   EXPLANATION.  177 

at  present,"  said  Miss  Bartlett.  "  I  can 
never  consent  to  apologize  to  a  child.  I 
prefer  to  leave  the  school." 

"Your  resignation  must  come  before 
the  whole  committee,  and  I  for  one  shall 
be  decidedly  in  favour  of  accepting  it," 
said  Mr.  Antis,  who  had  at  first  been  dis- 
posed to  favour  Miss  Bartlett.  "You 
seem  to  me  to  show  clearly  that  you  are 
entirely  unfitted  to  manage  a  school.  I 
must  say  I  am  very  much  surprised  at 
what  I  have  seen." 

Miss  Bartlett  exploded. 

"  I  ain't  going  to  wait  for  no  school- 
meeting,"  said  she,  returning  to  her  native 
tongue,  as  people  are  apt  to  do  in  times 
of  excitement.  "  I'll  never  stay  in  this 
school,  to  be  .down-trodden  by  anybody — 
no,  not  another  minute.  You  may  teach 
the  school  for  yourself  if  you  choose,  for 
I  won't  'tend  to  it  another  minute." 

"  Well,  but  look  here,  Miranda,"  Mr. 
Badger  began,  but  Miss  Bartlett  would 
not  listen.  She  put  on  her  hat,  collected 
M 


178  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

her  possessions,  and  left  the  room,  not 
even  casting  a  glance  behind  her. 

"  Well,  if  ever  I  did  !"  said  Mr.  Bad- 
ger. "Who  would  have  thought  of  her 
taking  it  in  that  way  ?" 

"Not  I,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Mr. 
Antis.  "  I  always  supposed  -she  was  a 
very  good,  sensible  girl,  though  I  didn't 
like  all  her  ways.  But  her  resignation 
has  saved  us  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  and 
I  am  not  sorry  for  it." 

"  My  wife  will  say,  '  I  told  you  so,' ' 
remarked  Mr.  Badger.  "  She  said  this 
morning,  '  Miranda  won't  care  anything 
about  the  justice  of  the  thing ;  she  never 
can  think  of  anything  or  anybody  but 
herself;'  and  I  guess  she  was  right.  But 
what  shall  we  do  for  a  teacher  ?" 

"  You  might  put  in  Fanny  till  we  can 
find  some  one." 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  exactly  like  to  do 
that.  You  see  folks  might  say  I  quarrelled 
with  Miranda  to  make  room  for  my 
daughter.  But  there's  Alice  Brown ;  she 


THE   EXPLANATION.  179 

is  at  home  now.  Why  isn't  she  just  the 
one?" 

"  She  is,  if  she  will  take  it.  I  should 
like  to  have  her  for  good." 

"Well,  maybe  it  can  be  managed. 
We'll  call  a  meeting  this  evening,  and 
I'll  try  to  see  Alice  this  afternoon.  Now 
I  suppose  we'd  better  call  the  children  in 
and  give  them  a  little  talking  to." 

"  You  must  do  that,"  said  Mr.  Antis. 
"  You  know  how  to  talk  to  children,  and 
I  don't." 

"  I  always  talk  to  children  just  as  I  do 
to  grown  folks;"  said  Mr.  Badger,  who 
was  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school, 
and  had  been  so  for  twenty  years.  "I 
never  found  any  better  way  than  that. 
Just  talk  in  a  sensible,  serious,  straight- 
forward way,  and  they're  ready  enough 
to  listen — at  least  I  always  find  them  so. 
I  don't  believe  in  this  notion  that  every- 
thing has  got  to  be  made  funny  or  silly 
before  children  will  be  interested." 

Mr.  Badger   called   the   children   in ; 


180  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

and  after  saying  that  Miss  Bartlett  would 
be  away  for  a  while,  he  made  a  very 
plain  and  forcible  address  on  the  wicked- 
ness of  lying  and  its  consequences  in  this 
world  and  the  next.  He  pointed  out  also 
the  mischief  that  is  done  by  hasty  accu- 
sations and  a  too  great  readiness  to  believe 
evil  of  others. 

"If  Ira  had  only  waited  a  little,  he 
would  probably  have  remembered  all 
about  his  knife,  and  saved  himself  this 
trouble  and  disgrace.  And  there's  another 
thing,  boys,  and  girls  too,  which  I  want 
you  to  notice,"  continued  Mr.  Badger, 
"  and  that  is  that  it  is  a  very  mean  and 
miserable  thing  to  be  a  coward.  If  Ira 
had  been  a  brave  boy,  he  would  have  gone 
to  Miss  Bartlett  and  told  her  the  truth 
directly  as  soon  as  he  found  it  out,  and  he 
wouldn't  have  been  tempted  to  heap  one 
lie  on  the  top  of  another,  as  he  has  been 
doing  all  this  time.  It  is  a  dreadful 
thing  to  be  a  liar,  children — dreadful 
in  this  world,  and  still  worse  in  the 


THE   EXPLANATION.  181 

next ;  and  nothing  makes  more  lies  than 
cowardice." 

"  But  please,  Mr.  Badger,  even  if  people 
have  been  liars,  they  can  be  forgiven, 
can't  they?"  asked  Geordie,  quite  for- 
getting his  shyness  and  taking  the  lecture 
to  himself.  "  Mr.  Maynard  said  so.  He 
told  me,  when  I  felt  so  bad  about  the  lie 
I  told,  that  if  I  was  sorry  God  would  for.- 
give  me  and  wash  the  sin  all  away." 

"  That's  true,  my  son,"  answered  Mr. 
Badger — "just  gospel  truth.  If  the  great- 
est liar  on  earth  repents,  he  may  be  for- 
given ;  and  what  is  even  more,  he  may 
have  help  not  to  lie  again.  I  don't  think 
I  need  say  any  more  about  this  matter. 
There  won't  be  any  school  this  afternoon, 
but  you  can  all  come  to-morrow  morning  ; 
and  I  hope,  whatever  teacher  you  have, 
you  will  make  up  your  minds  to  be 
respectful  and  obedient  to  her.  You  can 
go  now,  all  but  Ira.  I  shall  go  home 
with  him  myself  and  explain  matters  to 
his  father." 

16 


182  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  Well,  Geordie,  ain't  you  glad  it  has 
turned  out,  so  well  ?"  asked  Torn  Parsons 
as  soon  as  they  were  dismissed. 

"  Yes,"  said  Geordie,  "  I  am  glad  every 
one  knows  I  didn't  take  the  knife." 

"  And  ain't  you  glad  Miss  Bartlett  got 
so  taken  down  ?"  asked  Sarah  Brady,  who 
had  always  taken  sides  against  Geordie, 
but  who  now  began  to  think  him  a  friend 
worth  cultivating. 

"I  don't  think  I  am,"  said  Geordie; 
"  and  besides,  where's  the  taking  down  ? 
She  was  mistaken,  that  was  all.  I  wonder 
why  she  isn't  going  to  teach  to-morrow  ?" 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  Because  she 
won't.  She  said  she  wouldn't  teach  any 
more  unless  she  had  an  apology  made  to 
her,"  said  Sarah  Brady,  "  and  Mr.  Antis 
told  her  then  she  needn't.  So  she  said 
she  wouldn't  stay  another  minute,  and 
she  just  took  her  things  and  marched  off. 
I  was  in  the  shed  listening,  and  I  heard 
every  word  they  said." 

"You  were  in  big  business  listening," 


THE   EXPLANATION.  183 

said  Annie  Cooke.  "  Won't  Ira's  father 
and  mother  be  mad,  though?  I  guess 
they'll  find  he  can  tell  a  lie  now  and 
then." 

"  Ain't  you  glad  he'll  catch  it,  Geor- 
die  ?"  asked  Sarah. 

"  No,  I  am  not,"  answered  Geordie. 
"  You  don't  suppose  I  want  Ira  whipped, 
do  you  ?  What  good  would  that  do  me  ? 
I  think  it  was  real  mean  in  him  not  to 
tell  when  he  found  his  knife,  and  I  don't 
think  Miss  Bartlett  did  right,  either,  but 
I  don't  want  them  punished." 

"  Oh  dear  me !  what  a  good  boy  we 
are  !"  said  Sarah,  sarcastically  ;  "just  like 
a  little  boy  in  a  Sunday-school  book. 
Do  you  think  I'm  going  to  believe  that  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  you  will,  but  it 
is  true,  for  all  that,"  answered  Geordie, 
simply. 

"  Never  mind,  Geordie,"  said  Tom. 
"  Sarah  judges  everybody  by  herself. 
I  believe  you,  and  you  are  right  too. 
Revenge  n\  ver  does  any  good." 


184  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

"  Wasn't  Miss  Thurston  perfectly  sp^en- 
did  ?"  said  Annie  Cook. 

"She  needn't  feel  so  grand,"  sneered 
Sarah.  "She  used  to  live  here  with 
Mrs.  Bowers,  and  Mrs.  Bowers  sent  her 
away.  My  mother  knows  all  about  it." 

"  What  if  she  did  ?  That  isn't  any- 
thing against  her.  Geordie,  wasn't  you 
surprised  when  you  saw  her  ?" 

"  Oh  no.  I  knew  she  was  coming. 
Don't  you  remember  that  time  I  went 
to  town  with  Jeduthun?  I  saw  her 
then,  and  she  told  me  how  she  was  com- 
ing to  visit  Mrs.  Antis,  and  she  would 
make  it  all  right." 

"Why,  that  was  more  than  two  weeks 
ago,"  exclaimed  Sarah.  "Well,  if  you 
don't  beat  everything." 

"  She  told  me  not  to  tell,  so  of  course 
I  didn't,"  answered  Geordie,  simply. 

"  Well,  you  are  a  good  boy,  and  I'm 
sorry  I  ever  said  anything  against  you," 
said  Sarah,  who  might  have  been  a  bet- 
ter girl  if  she  had  had  a  better  home. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AND  LAST. 

'HE  next  day,  when  Geordie  came 
home  from  school,  he  found  Miss 
Thurston  and  Mr.  Maynard  sit- 
ting with  his  aunt.  Aunt  Clarke 
looked  a  good  deal  discomposed,  and 
Geordie  even  thought  she  had  been  cry- 
ing, but  she  did  not  look  at  all  displeased, 
"  Here  comes  Geordie.  Let  him  speak 
for  himself,"  said  Aunt  Clarke.  "  I  don't 
want  to  oppose  anything  that  is  to  be  for 
his  good,  I'm  sure.  He's  a  good  boy, 
if  ever  there  was  one — I'll  say  that  for 
him  before  his  face,  or  behind  his  back, 
either." 

Geordie  looked  from  one  to  another, 
wondering  what  was  the  matter.  Miss 
Thurston  soon  explained  it  to  him. 

16  *  '  185 


186  THE   TAME  TUETLE. 

There  was  a  certain  college  founded  for 
orphan  boys,  especially  sons  of  clergy- 
men, where  they  might  receive  an  ex- 
cellent education,  such  as  would  fit  them 
for  any  station  in  life.  Miss  Thurston 
possessed  what  is  called  a  scholarship  in 
this  institution — that  is,  she  had  given 
a  certain  sum  of  money,  and  received  in 
return  the  right  to  send  a  scholar  for 
the  whole  course — and  this  scholarship 
she  proposed  to  bestow  upon  Geordie. 

"  In  that  way,"  said  Miss  Thurston, 
"  you  can  obtain  an  excellent  education, 
which  will  enable  you,  when  you  are  old 
enough,  to  follow  your  father's  profes- 
sion, if  it  seems  to  be  desirable.  I  am 
acquainted  with  the  president  and  several 
of  the  professors,  and  Mr.  Maynard 
knows  all  about  the  working  of  the  in- 
stitution. There  will  be  no  expenses 
but  your  clothing,  and  your  travelling  if 
you  come  home  to  spend  your  holidays. 
Your  aunt  says  you  must  decide  for 
yourself." 


AND   LAST.  187 

"  I'd  rather  she  would  say,"  said  Geor- 
die. 

"  No,  I  won't,"  answered  Mrs.  Clarke. 
"  Of  course  you  know,  George,  that  I 
don't  want  to  lose  you.  I  haven't  always 
used  you  very  well,  and  I  haven't  made 
it  very  pleasant  for  you." 

"  Please  don't  say  that,  Aunt  Clarke," 
said  Geordie.  "  I  have  made  you  trou- 
ble, I  know,  and  you  have  been  just  as 
good  as  you  could  be  ever  since  I  was 
sick." 

"  But  you  must  know  that  I  can't  ever 
give  you  any  such  advantages  as  Miss 
Thurston  promises  you,"  continued  Mrs. 
Clarke,  stoutly  resisting  something  which 
made  her  voice  rather  tremulous.  "  I 
shall  hate  to  lose  you,  but  I  won't  stand 
in  the  way  of  your  having  a  college  edu- 
cation. You  must  do  just  as  you  think 
best,  sonny.  Think  what  your  father 
would  have  wished." 

Geordie  paused,  and  considered. 

"Well?"  said  Miss  Thurston. 


188  THE   TAME   TUETLE. 

"  Father  wanted  me  to  be  a  missionary 
and  preach  to  his  Indians,"  said  Geordie, 
at  last,  "and  I  must  have  some  educa- 
tion, or  I  can't  be  a  minister.  Father 
began  to  teach  me  himself,  and  he  said 
he  hoped  I  should  have  a  college  educa- 
tion. But  then  I  don't  want  to  leave 
Aunt  Clarke." 

"  You  can  come  home-  for  holidays, 
you  know,"  said  Mr.  Maynard. 

"  And  you  can  write  plenty  of  letters," 
added  Aunt  Clarke. 

"  What  would  you  advise  him  to  do, 
Mr.  Maynard?"  asked  Miss  Thurston. 
"  Geordie  is  rather  young  to  decide  such 
an  important  question  for  himself." 

"  I  should  .decidedly  advise  him  to  go," 
-answered  Mr.  Maynard.  "You  know, 
Geordie,  I  told  you  that  if  you  were  to 
be  a  minister  the  way  would  be  opened 
for  you.  Don't  this  look  like  such  an 
opening  ?" 

"  I  think  it  does,"  said  Geordie.  "  The 
only  thing  is  leaving  Aunty  Clarke." 


AND   LAST.  189 

I 

"  You  mustn't  think  about  that,  sonny," 
said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  You  might  have  to 
go,  any  way,  you  know.  As  Miss 
Thurston  says,  you  can  always  write, 
and  you  will  be  coming  home  for  holi- 
days. I  do  really  think  you  had  better 
take  the  chance." 

"Well,  then  I  will,"  said  Geordie, 
drawing  a  long  breath ;  "  but  I  don't 
know  what  I  ought  to  say  to  Miss  Thurs- 
ton for  her  kindness  to  me." 

"  Say  you  are  much  obliged  to  her,  and 
you'll  try  to  give  her  the  worth  of  the 
money  she  lays  out  on  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Clarke. 

"I'm  sure  I  will,"  said  Geordie,  with 
a  faltering  voice.  "  Oh  dear !  don't  it 
seem  too  good  to  think  that  I  should  go 
and  preach  to  father's  poor  Indians  ?" 

"  That's  a  long  way  ahead,  sonny,"  said 

-Mrs.  Clarke.     "  Maybe,  by  the  time  you 

get  your  education,  you'll  think  it  better 

to  go   and   preach  to   some  fashionable 

congregation  in  the  city." 


190  THE  TAME   TURTLE. 

"I  sha'n't,  I  know,"  said  Geordie, 
rather  indignantly. 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  you  will,"  said 
Mr.  Maynard.  "  I  have  noticed  that  the 
children  of  missionaries  almost  always 
become  missionaries  after  them.  I  think, 
Geordie,  you  have  reason  to  rejoice  that 
you  met  Miss  Thurston  that  day,  not- 
withstanding your  trouble  about  the 
knife." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Geordie.  "  It 
has  all  turned  out  nicely,  only  for  poor 
Miss  Bartlett.  I  am  sorry  about  that." 

"I  really  don't  think  you  have  any 
reason  to  be,  my  son,"  said  Mr.  May- 
nard. "Miss  Bartlett  was  very  unfit 
for  her  place,  and  it  would  have  been  no 
kindness  to  keep  her  in  it.  She  did  a 
good  deal  of  harm,  as  it  was,  and  might 
have  done  much  more.  It  has  all  turned 
out  for  the  best,  you  may  depend." 

"And  when  shall  I  have  to  go?" 
asked  Geordie. 

"  Not  before  the  middle  of  September, 


AND   LAST.  191 

when  the  college-year  commences,"  an- 
swered Miss  Thurston.  "  You  must  run 
about  the  fields  and  gain  all  the  strength 
and  health  you  can  till  that  time.  Per- 
haps, if  you  are  strong  enough,  Mr. 
Maynard  will  give  your  Latin  a  lift. 
But  we  will  talk  that  over  this  evening, 
as  we  shall  all  meet  at  Mrs.  Antis's." 

"  What  did  Miss  Thurston  say  about 
our  meeting  at  Mrs.  Antis's?"  asked 
Geordie,  when  the  visitors  had  gone. 

"Oh,  we're  invited  up  there  to  tea. 
You  must  dress  yourself  all  in  your  best 
for  the  occasion,  and  I  will  put  on  my 
company  frock,  and  we'll  see  how  nice  we 
can  behave,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  Geor- 
die, what  do  you  think  I  shall  do  with- 
out you  ?" 

"Are  you  real  sorry  to  have  me  go 
away  ?"  asked  Geordie : 

"  Yes,  child,  or  I  shouldn't  say  so." 

"  Well,  I  don't  suppose  you  would, 
but  it  seems  queer.  I  have  made  you  so 
much  trouble,  being  sick  and  all.  Aunty, 


192  THE  TAME  TURTLE. 

when  I  get  to  be  a  minister  out  in  Min- 
nesota, will  you  come  and  keep  house 
for  me  ?" 

"  We  shall  see,"  answered  Mrs.  Clarke, 
smiling.  "  I  expect  you'll  be  a  fine 
young  gentleman,  and  marry  a  fine 
young  lady  who  will  look  down  on  poor 
old  Aunty  Clarke." 

"  I  sha'n't,  either,"  answered  Geordie, 
rather  indignantly.  "Besides,  I  don't 
think  fine  people  always  look  down  on 
others.  I  am  sure  Miss  Thurston  don't." 

"  Well,  I  don't  say  she  does.  Perhaps 
I  have  been  too  ready  to  think  folks 
looked  down  on  me.  She  has  certainly 
been  very  good  to  you." 

"  She  has  been  good  to  me  in  more 
ways  than  one,"  answered  Geordie.  "  If 
I  had  never  seen  her  again  after  that 
first  time,  I  should  always  thank  her.!' 

"  Why,  she  got  you  into  a  pretty  bad 
scrape,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke. 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.  But,  Aunty  Clarke, 
it  was  just  this  way.  I  was  feeling 


AND    LAST.  193 

awful  discouraged.  It  didn't  seem  to  me 
as  if—" 

"Well,  as  if  what?"  asked  Aunty 
Clarke.  "  Come,  Geordie,  let's  have  it 
all  out." 

"  Well,  then,  it  didn't  seem  to  me  as  if 
any  one  cared  whether  I  was  good  or 
not,"  said  Geordie.  "You  know,  Aunt 
Clarke,  you  were  different  then." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Clarke. 
"Well,  what  then?" 

"Well,  Miss  Thurston  made  me  see 
that  my  heavenly  Father  eared,"  said 
Geordie,  reverently.  "She  made  me  re- 
member what  my  father  and  mother  used 
to  teach  me,  and  which  I  had  almost  for- 
gotten— the  meaning  of  those  verses  about 
the  sparrows  and  about  the  hairs  of  our 
head.  I  thought,  if  he  cared  and  wanted 
me  to  be  good,  I  would  never  leave  off 
trying.  And  it  was  that  made  me  feel 
worse  than  anything  when  I  had  the  fuss 
about  the  knife.  Miss  Bartlett  told  me 
that  God  hated  me  because  I  had  told  a 

17  N 


194  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

lie,  and  that,  do  what  I  would,  I  never 
could  get  back  again.  Mr.  Maynard 
helped  me  about  that,  though.  Aunt,"  he 
added,  suddenly  changing  the  subject, 
"  what  shall  I  do  with  my  turtle  ?  I  hate 
to  put .  him  away  when  he  has  got  so 
tame." 

"Don't  you  think  I  know  enough  to 
take  care  of  a  turtle  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarke. 
"  I  expect  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  him 
come  in  and  eat  with  me  for  company 
when  you  are  gone." 

So  the  matter  was  settled  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  parties. 

Except  Miss  Bartlett.  Miss  Bartlett 
conceived  that  she  had  been  worse  treated 
than  any  one  ever  had  been  before.  She 
had  condescended  in  taking  charge  of 
the  Boonville  school  at  all,  educated  as 
.she  had  been,  but  she  was  willing  to  do 
HO  for  the  sake  of  doing  good  and  pro- 
moting the  spread  of  advanced  ideas. 
But  she  had  not  been  appreciated.  She 
had  been  interfered  with  and  dictated  to 


AND   LAST.  195 

by  the  committee,  and  forced  to  work 
under  her  inferiors,  and  finally  she  had 
been  insulted  in  her  school  and  before  her 
scholars  by  a  purse-proud  and  haughty 
minion  of  fashion.  That  was  the  way  she 
described  Miss  Thurston,  and  she  found 
considerable  comfort  in  the  words.  She 
also  derived  a  good  deal  of  consolation 
from  the  remark,  often  repeated,  that  Mr. 
Badger  and  Mr.  Maynard  were  illiberal 
and  antiquated  religionists,  Miss  Thurston 
was  the  same,  and  that  she  had  selected 
Geordie  for  the  incumbent  of  her  scholar- 
ship because  he  was  just  such  a  lump  of 
wax  as  she  could  make  a  tool  of.  She 
also  remarked  that  they  "  WAS  an  awful 
mean,  low,  narrow-minded  set,  and  that 
she  was  glad  to  get  quit  of  the  whole  of 
them."  She  remained  at  home  for  some 
time,  and  then  departed  to  assist  in  the 
management  of  a  school  at  the  East  car- 
ried on  by  a  gentleman  of  very  "ad- 
vanced "  principles. 

Geordie  went  away  at  the  appointed 


196  THE  TAME   TURTLE. 

time,  not  without  a  good  many  mis- 
givings. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  get  on 
among  so  many  boys,"  he  said  to  Jedu- 
thun,  a  few  days  before. 

"  Well,  now,  I  want  to  tell  you  one 
thing,  Geordie :  you  must  try  to  pluck  up 
spirit  and  be  a  man,"  answered  Jedu- 
thun.  ^"  You  are  a  great  deal  too  ready 
to  be  cast  down  when  anything  happens 
to  worry  you.  You  must  learn  to  hold 
up  your  head  and  put  things  aside ;  and 
if  you  are  found  fault  with,  try  to  do 
better  next  time,  and  let  it  go.  I  dare 
say  things  won't  be  just  right  there  more 
than  here — I  never  found  them  just  right 
anywhere ;  but  you  must  make  the  best 
of  them.  You  mean  to  be  a  Christian, 
don't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,  1  do." 

"  Well,  all  Christians  are  soldiers,  you 
know — Christ's  faithful  soldiers  and  ser- 
vants; and  what  kind  of  a  soldier  is  it 
that  is  ready  to  give  up  at  the  first  defeat 


AND   L.AST.  197 

or  the  first  time  his  captain  gives  him  a 
blowing  up  ?  You  try  to  be  a  man,  and 
not  a  baby,  and  you'll  be  all  right,  I  dare 
say." 

Geordie  came  home  for  the  Christmas 
holidays  wearing  his  neat  uniform — for 
the  school  was  under  military  discipline — 
and  looking  so  stout  and  manly  that 
there  was  no  question  as  to  his  physical 
well-being  at  least. 

"And  you  like  the  school  part,  do 
you  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarke. 

"Oh  yes,  indeed.  I  found  it  rather 
hard  at  first,  though.  The  masters  are 
ever  so  strict ;  and  if  a  fellow  is  idle  or 
troublesome,  they  make  him  see  sights,  I 
can  tell  you ;  but  then,  if  you  do  behave, 
you  have  first-rate  times.  There's  lots 
of  time  to  play,  and  a  first-rate  place, 
and  they  let  the  boys  have  pets  and  gar- 
dens and —  Oh,  it's  real  nice.  By  the 
way,  where  is  turtle?  I  suppose  he 
buried  himself  up  when  winter  came." 

Mrs.  Clarke  lifted  her  work  from  the 

17* 


198  THE   TAME   TURTLE. 

table  of  her  sewing-machine.  There  sat 
turtle,  flat  on  his  stomach,  with  his  legs 
stretched  out  behind,  blinking  and  comb- 
ing the  air  with  his  claws,  as  his  custom 
was  when  quite  contented. 

"  He  looked  so  kind  of  miserable  when 
the  weather  began  to  grow  cold  that  I 
brought  him  in,  and  then  he  seemed  so 
happy  and  contented  that  I  let  him  stay," 
said  Mrs.  Clarke.  "  I  thought  he  would 
curl  up  after  a  while,  but  he  don't  seem 
to.  He  likes  best  to  sit  on  the  machine, 
and  he  is  real  company  for  me.  The 
little  fellow  gave  me  a  lesson  worth  a  good 
deal  more  than  his  keep,  and  he  shall 
have  a  home  as  long  as  I  have  one 
myself." 

Geordie  is  still  in  school,  growing  tall 
and  manly,  and  getting  on  famously  with 
his  studies,  a  favourite  with  both  school- 
mates and  teachers. 

Mrs.  Clarke  has  received  quite  an 
accession  of  property  from  the  will  of 
her  father-in-law,  which  places  her  in 


AND   LAST.  199 

very  easy  circumstances;  and  last  sum- 
mer vacation  she  actually  took  Geordie 
up  to  Minnesota  to  visit  his  Indian 
friends.  He  found  Michael  and  Marie 
Choquette  well  and  prosperous,  and  Mrs. 
Clarke  stayed  a  week  with  them,  and 
never  once  found  fault  with  Marie's  man- 
agement, though  she  expressed  the  opin- 
ion afterward  that  she  had  eaten  her  full 
"  peck  of  dirt,"  and  a  little  over. 

Geordie  had  the  pleasure  of  present- 
ing Michael's  revolver  and  Marie's  shawl 
with  his  own  hands,  and  the  supreme 
delight  of  a  three  days'  hunting  expe- 
dition in  the  great  woods  with  his  old 
friend. 


THE   END. 


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